


Líberanos del Mal

by ellipsisthegreat



Category: Jurassic Park Series - Michael Crichton, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bad Spanish, Blood, F/M, Gen, Gore, M/M, Minor Character Death, Motherfucking Dinosaurs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsisthegreat/pseuds/ellipsisthegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Leonard McCoy, trauma surgeon, works a clinic in rural Costa Rica when two torn up kids raise his suspicions about an American-owned island off the coast. Dr. Jim Kirk, archeologist, works the badlands of Montana when he discovers his investors fund more than dead dinosaur research. Both of them are about to embark on a journey to Isla Nublar, a journey rife with death, adventure, and yes: motherfucking dinosaurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Líberanos del Mal

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Líberanos del Mal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7272055) by [Singh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singh/pseuds/Singh)



> Soo probably my favorite book/movie franchise of all time is Jurassic Park. (I’m guessing that’s pretty obvious.) I’d actually been considering a fusion for a while, but didn’t give it any serious thought until my family went to Universal Studios Florida this past Spring and rode on the Jurassic Park River Adventure ride—I spent basically the entire ride planning out this fic. And then when we got home I reread the books and re-watched the movies and was like “YES THIS COULD TOTALLY WORK. AND IF IT DOESN’T I’LL MAKE IT BECAUSE MOTHERFUCKING DINOSAURS FUCK YEAH. :DD”
> 
> There was a slight hiccup during the writing of this because one of our cats had kittens in my closet. I mean, how do you write about dinosaurs slaughtering people when there are adorable little babies in your closet? Seriously?), but somehow I weathered through (possibly they are why bb!Pavel turned out to be so darned cute, but he’s inherently cute so I’m not sure).
> 
> I hope no one’s put off by the mention of OCs in my character list. I sure as hell like them, so hopefully you will, too!
> 
> And, um…I don’t know, stop wasting listening to me ramble and go read about motherfucking dinosaurs!

**Prologue**

Leonard liked Costa Rica.

He’d have preferred to stay in Georgia, of course, but after everything with Jocelyn…

Well, joining the Peace Corps had seemed like a good idea at the time. Being sent to the small, remote village of Bahia Anasco wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind, but it turned out to be something of a mixed blessing. Sure, he could only get to civilization once a week, when a small bus came to drop off and pick up supplies and people. The computer he’d been provided with was more like an electric typewriter. And he had to be careful if he went into the jungle because of…well, pretty much everything (flora, fauna, bacteria).

But on the other hand, people came in only when it was absolutely necessary, and didn’t generally waste his time.

The attendants—Tomasa and Emilio—were good, too. Not great, since they’d had no formal training, but Tomasa had been practicing some sort of medicine since before the Peace Corps even knew Bahia Anasco existed. She kept showing him local remedies which were surprisingly effective, not to mention inexpensive. Which wasn’t something he’d really considered, since this was through the Peace Corps and all, but Tomasa had very quickly woken him up to the fact that funds were far from adequate.

Emilio, on the other hand, knew next to nothing about medicine. Claimed to have been bullied into it by Tomasa, who rolled her eyes and said something Leonard took to mean ‘bullshit.’ (Later she told Leonard Emilio’s father had been mauled to death while doing a job a few months before Leonard’s arrival.)

But Emilio turned out to be a quick study. Once Leonard explained the symptoms for some of the more common ailments, Emilio basically took over their treatment. Leonard started leaving medical school booklets around the clinic.

“Doctor,” Emilio said, knocking on the open door of his office before he entered.

“ _Sí_?” he asked. He was attempting to learn Spanish, but it was a work in progress. Maybe after another year he’d be able to hold a conversation with a toddler.

“One of the children says a helicopter is landing, _señor_ ,” Emilio said.

“In this weather?” Leonard stood, frowning as he followed Emilio to the front doors of the clinic. Sure enough, a helicopter was looming over the line of the trees, wavering in the torrential rain and winds as it looked for a space large enough to land.

Five minutes later, it had. A tall white man jumped out as soon as it touched the ground, a loose jacket hiked up over his head as he ran over to them.

“We need medical assistance,” he said. “Weather’s too bad to get over the mountains to San Jose.”

“Well then, don’t just stand there like an idiot explaining it to me,” Leonard said. “Bring him inside.”

The man blinked at him, then nodded and turned to yell something at two workmen who were already scrambling around the helicopter. Between them, they carried a stretcher into the clinic. Tomasa, bless her, already had a table cleared and a number of drugs and instruments close at hand.

“What sort of animal was it?” Leonard asked as he surveyed the damage, carefully cutting away the man’s shirt. Christ, he wasn’t even a man. Just a boy, bleeding and shivering and obviously scared out of his wits.

“What?” the man asked. “No, it was a construction accident. Backhoe.”

“Bullshit, Mister…”

“Regis. Ed Regis,” the man said without offering a hand, which was fine since Leonard was using his to staunch the blood flow from the worst of the wounds.

“I’ve seen my fair share of construction accidents, Mr. Regis, and my share of animal attacks. This is mauling, or my name isn’t Leonard Horatio McCoy.”

“I assure you, it was a construction accident,” Regis said, licking his lips. His eyes darted around, nervously.

Leonard hummed noncommittally as he pulled out his camera and began snapping pictures. “When’d it happen?”

“About an hour ago,” Regis said. “The site is off the coast—anyhow, I didn’t see it. They said it was a backhoe.”

“Right,” Leonard said. He wrinkled his nose as he leaned over to prod the wound gently. No way it had been caused by a backhoe. There was no dirt in the wound as would have been consistent with a construction accident. Only a viscous fluid—almost like saliva—which gave off an ungodly stench of death and decay unlike any he’d ever smelled before. “Well, get out.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, dammit. If I’m going to save this kid I need you out of here,” Leonard said. Tomasa began lecturing Regis in fluid, fast-paced Spanish, shooing him bodily out of the room.

“Should I keep washing?” Emilio asked, pausing to look up from his work.

Leonard opened his mouth to answer when the boy suddenly spoke up.

“ _Lo sa raptor_.”

“What?” Leonard looked at Emilio.

“ _No es espanol, señor_ ,” Emilio said.

“Raptor,” the boy said again. “ _Lo sa raptor_.”

“It bit him,” Emilio said, aghast.

“What did?”

“A raptor.”

“What, like a dinosaur?” Leonard snorted. He’d loved dinosaurs when he was a kid; especially, in typical bloodthirsty boy fashion, the dangerous ones. T-rex, baryonyx, velociraptor…

And Joanna liked them; she was determined to be an paleontologist when she grew up. It was really the only thing they had in common, since the divorce. Jocelyn hardly ever let him talk to her. When she did…at first, it had been all he could do to find things to talk about with Joanna. Then one day she’d mentioned a field trip to the Fernbank Museum of Natural History, and he’d mentioned the dinosaurs. Suddenly, he was mailing old contacts, begging to be sent books about dinosaurs so he could keep up with her.

“No, _señor_ , it is a _hupia_ ,” Emilio said. He looked like he wanted to say more when the boy suddenly convulsed, rolling over to vomit blood onto the floor. More convulsions sent him tumbling off of the bed before Leonard could so much as try to grab hold of him.

Regis tried to get back in the room, cried out at the sight of blood and turned away as Tomasa began fussing again. She gave a little shriek when she looked past him and saw the boy.

“Get out of here,” Leonard said, scrabbling for a stick or tongue depressor to put in the boy’s clenched jaws. It was too late, though—he knew that even before the boy arched like a bow being pulled taut and then fell completely, eerily still.

He crouched next to the boy’s prone form, ready to attempt to resuscitate him, but was stopped by Emilio’s hand on his chest.

“No, _señor_. The _hupia_ will cross over,” Emilio said.

“Don’t be an idiot, goddammit,” Leonard said, but Emilio was stronger than him, spent his spare time in the fields or forests instead of locked up in the clinic.

“You do not understand, doctor. You will get sick,” Emilio said. Leonard stopped struggling; it would have been a futile venture, in any case. “I will tell them to take him away.”

Tomasa came back in, then. Took one look at the boy on the floor and (as far as Leonard could tell) blessed out Regis and his workers. For their part, the workers carried the body delicately, hesitant to touch the boy’s skin directly. When one of them stumbled and started to drop the boy, Tomasa clucked at him and smacked the back of his head with a resounding thwack.

“Where’d they say this accident happened?” Leonard asked as the helicopter flew away.

“No more, _señor_ ,” Emilio said. “Forget about this. No good will come of it.”

Leonard huffed but followed them back inside, intent on finding his camera and looking through the pictures to try and better understand just what had happened.

The camera was gone.

**Part I**

One of the local women was giving birth. Tomasa had taken over partway through, rolling her eyes at his protests. He hadn’t let her push him out of the room, but it was a close thing.

“Hand me the…” Tomasa said, and snapped her fingers at her bag.

“What is this?” Leonard asked as he pulled a bottle of some sort of liquid out of her bag.

“It will help,” Tomasa said. She made a grab for it, but he held it out of her reach. “ _Señor_.”

“Not until you tell me what’s in it,” he said, unscrewing the cap and sniffing it suspiciously.

“I made it for the village long before you arrived,” Tomasa said angrily, backhanding his stomach. “Give it, _señor_.”

Leonard scowled at the bottle. Before she could stop him, he tipped his head and took a quick sip. Very deliberately did not lick his lips or take another swig of it, because he liked coconut water. Whatever else she had in there wasn’t too bad, either, and didn’t taste fatty enough to cause any nausea.

With a sheepish smile, he let Tomasa snatch the bottle from his hand. She slapped his stomach again, muttering to herself darkly as she turned her attention back on the mother, Maria.

Just as the baby was beginning to crown, Emilio came into the room, averting his eyes respectfully as he pulled Leonard off to one side.

“ _Señor_ , you must come now,” he said. “There is a girl who has been badly hurt. Bitten by the _hupia_ , like the boy.”

The _hupia_ , Leonard had come to understand, was some sort of spirit that attacked small children. It was blamed for unexplained deaths and disappearances of children, although those were rare enough that he hadn’t heard of it before the mauled boy, and not often after.

His eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “Tomasa, will you—”

She waved him away before he could finish, speaking in soothing tones to the mother.

“I will take pictures; you must work,” Emilio said, holding up Leonard’s new camera.

Leonard nodded as he followed Emilio into the other examination room of the clinic—the one the boy had died in, he remembered with a slight shiver.

The girl on the bed groaned, her skin red and swelling around the small bite marks that littered her right arm and shoulder.

A woman—presumably the girl’s mother—began babbling as soon as she saw him. “We were on the beach, a little private place a few miles down the road, and she just started screaming and screaming and there’s so much blood. She’ll be alright, won’t she, doctor? Please tell me she’ll be alright.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure she will be, ma’am,” Leonard said with his best southern drawl, patting her shoulder soothingly. “Why don’t you and your husband just follow Emilio on out to my office, and he’ll get y’all some coffee.”

She looked like she wanted to protest, obviously verging on hysteria, when her husband put a gentle hand on her elbow and steered her toward the door. “Please, please…”

“Let him work, Ellie. Ariana will be fine,” the man said sternly as they disappeared.

Leonard turned back to the girl. Emilio had already cleaned her wounds—and gotten samples, thank God. He’d set out an IV, too, and Leonard set about attaching it to her arm. It looked like whatever had bitten her was causing her to have a severe allergic reaction, so he hooked it up to an antihistamine.

By the time Emilio returned with the camera some five or so minutes later, the worst of the swelling had gone down. The bites, once he could actually see them, weren’t actually that bad. Some were deep enough to draw blood, yes, but none had hit any major arteries. Most of them were so shallow they were already fading.

Emilio took pictures as Leonard wrapped the few open wounds.

“This isn’t as bad as the boy,” Leonard said. “Not by a long shot.”

“A little _hupia_ ,” Emilio said. “We should hunt it and stop the attacks.”

Leonard snorted. “We’ll have to ask the girl when she wakes up. Did her parents tell you anything useful?”

Emilio shook his head. “They were away from her when the _hupia_ attacked; out of sight. The _hupia_ will not be there when adults are nearby. They only attack children.”

“That boy from before was young, yes, but not quite a child,” Leonard said.

“Maybe he was…” He trailed off and tapped his head, shrugging.

Leonard hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe. It was obviously much bigger. Wish we’d gotten some damn samples. And my camera…” He shook his head. “I want you to send those samples to my friend in the States, Dr. Puri. He studies exotic animals; if nothing else, he can give us a general idea on what kind of animal it is.” He peered closer at the bites. “Obviously not a bird. Maybe a large rodent of some sort, or a lizard. Nothing too dangerous, thank God.”

“I am telling you it is a _hupia_ , _señor_ ,” Emilio said.

Leonard frowned at him. “Maybe, alright, maybe. But it’s possible there’s something else out there, too. Just send the damn samples.”

Emilio nodded his understanding, though Leonard suspected he was merely being appeased. Whatever Emilio thought, Leonard figured there was some lizard on the _EnGen_ island that hadn’t really been known to the mainland. Brought over by the supply ships, maybe. Or, hell, maybe the damn things could swim long distances; the girl’s mother had mentioned a beach.

He was sure if they went to the island, they would get to the bottom of all this.

He was equally sure the Costa Rican government wouldn’t sanction such an investigation against an obviously well-paying foreign business.

(DOESSOMEONEGOINTOTHEPARKAND,UH,PULLUPTHEDINOSAURS’PAGEBREAKS?)

“That’s impossible,” Leonard said as he looked down at the drawing Ariana had done of the lizard that had attacked her.

“Ariana’s very observant,” Stephen Neill, the girl’s father, said. “It might be a bit crude, but she’s only eight…”

“No, no, I believe you,” Leonard said. “It’s just…at first I figured it was a lizard, but…see here, the long neck? The three toes? And the posture…to be honest, it looks like one of the dinosaurs from my daughter’s picture books.”

“That isn’t funny, doctor,” Ellie Neill said, scowling at him.

“I’m not trying to be,” he said. “Paleontology is something of a hobby…if your daughter gave this to me at any other time, I would never suspect it was a contemporary lizard. It looks like a very good approximation of a _Procompsognathid_.” When he saw their blank expressions, he said, “it’s a tiny dinosaur, about the size of a chicken. One of the smallest. Most paleontologists believe it was a scavenger.”

“Scavengers don’t attack perfectly healthy little girls,” Ellie said.

“Not necessarily true,” he said. “I’m sure I’ve heard of scavengers attacking babies and small children, before; even injured people or older folks who are asleep.” He looked back at the drawing with a frown. “An eight year old would be a bit of a stretch, especially one so active as your daughter.”

“It doesn’t matter, because it wasn’t a goddamned dinosaur,” Stephen said. “Of all the ridiculous things—when can you release her so we can get away from this madness?”

“By this afternoon,” Leonard said resignedly. “But please take her to your family doctor when you get home for a follow-up exam, to be sure there are no lingering infections. No matter what bit her, around here there’s really no telling what might fester and pop up rather nastily later on. Best to be on the safe side.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely be getting someone else to look at her, _doctor_ ,” Stephen said, spitting the title out like a curse.

Leonard couldn’t hold his tongue any longer; this was one of the reasons he’d been so happy to take a job at the ass end of nowhere. “Take the stick out of your ass, Neill. I wasn’t saying she actually got bitten by a dinosaur, for fuck’s sake, just that the picture looked like one. Around here, new animals are popping up all the time. I’m sure it’s just some new lizard got chased down by all the deforestation going on.”

Stephen huffed, but wasn’t allowed to say anything more as Tomasa bustled in.

“Lunch, _señor_ ,” she said. “Are _señor_ _y señora_ Neill coming?”

“We would rather eat with Ariana,” Ellie said.

“ _Sí_ , _sí_ ,” Tomasa said, nodding.

“I’ll take lunch in my office, Tomasa,” Leonard said as they left the room. “Any word from Puri?”

“ _Sí_ , _señor_ ,” Tomasa said. “He got the fax and will look at the sample as soon as the package arrives.”

Leonard nodded. “I’m going to fax him the picture Ariana drew.” He held up the picture, squinting at it again. “Good god damn, it really looks like a dinosaur. Fucking bizarre.”

“Mm,” Tomasa said, then stopped him with a hand on his arm before he could retreat into his office. “Ah, _señor_. Maria’s _bebé_ died last night.”

“What?” he asked. “The girl who was in here the day they brought Ariana in?”

“ _Sí_ ,” Tomasa said. “Maria say she went to check on him last night and he was dead.”

“Damn shame,” he said as he sat down, shaking his head. “Let me know when the funeral is, okay? I’ll bring a casserole.”

She nodded. As she turned to leave, she said, “She say there was no mark, but I believe it was a _hupia_.”

He looked up, one eyebrow cocked, but she was already gone.

(DOESSOMEONEGOINTOTHEPARKAND,UH,PULLUPTHEDINOSAURS’PAGEBREAKS?)

“I couldn’t find out a lot about them,” Michael Puri said. He was an old professor of Leonard’s who had kept in contact after graduation. Leonard considered him a friend—he was even the one to suggest the Peace Corps when Leonard had mentioned a desire to leave Georgia. (He had also laughed when Leonard told him he was being sent to Bumfuck, Costa Rica. Bastard.)

“You have to have found out more than I did,” Leonard said. “The clinic’s too far from the city to get a strong internet connection.”

“It’s Costa Rica, Leonard,” Michael said. “You’re supposed to be looking at the beautiful jungles, not a junky computer screen.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “I’ve had about enough of beautiful jungles. Just tell me what you’ve got, would you?”

“Well, _EnGen Inc._ is short for _Enterprise Genetics Incorporated_ ,” Michael said. “Private bioengineering company started up by some fellow named Khan Noonien Singh—who the fuck names their kid that? I mean, Leonard Horatio is bad enough, but seriously.”

“Leonard Horatio is a family name,” Leonard said.

“That just means there are several generations of utter tragedy in your family,” Michael said.

“I think now is a good time to remind you that you’re paying for this call,” Leonard said.

Michael laughed. “Alright. The investors are almost exclusively Japanese…and apparently this Khan guy’s a huge dinosaur nut. You would not believe all of the digs that list him as a benefactor. It’s insane. But that’s pretty much all I can find on this company, man. The only other thing I can tell you is that they bought an island off the coast of Costa Rica—hey, wait, they’re actually not that far from you. Little place called Isla Nublar; I think they’re making a park or something. It doesn’t really say.”

“Wonderful,” Leonard said. He sighed. “Did you get the fax I sent you?”

“That picture?” Michael asked. “Yeah, I got it. But I have to tell you, man, it looks like something my seven-year-old granddaughter would draw.”

“Of course it does, Michael,” Leonard said, rubbing a hand over his face. “That little girl I told you about drew it. Claims that’s what attacked her.”

“It looks like a striped basilisk lizard, other than a few details,” Michael Puri said. “It’s short a few toes, and its neck is too long, but otherwise I’d say it’s a basilisk.”

“Ariana was very clear,” Leonard said. “The dimensions she drew are the ones she remembers seeing.”

“Kids remember things differently, Len,” Michael said.

“Not this one,” Leonard insisted. “Hell, she noticed I was wearing a different watch from one day to the next, and I can hardly tell them apart. She specifically said it had three toes and a long neck, stood on its hind legs and moved like a chicken, and made a chirping noise, like a mouse.”

“Then perhaps it’s a new species of basilisk,” Michael said, sounding tired.

“Yeah, I thought that might be it, too,” Leonard said.

Michael’s voice suddenly took on a mischievous quality; the timbre it took when he was about to indulge in a spectacular bit of gossip. “You’ll never believe what one of my interns said when she saw it.”

“Oh?” Leonard arched an eyebrow at the phone.

“She said it was a dinosaur.”

Leonard choked on air. “Say what?”

“That’s what I said,” Michael said, all but giggling. “She wanted to send it to a museum, or something, can you believe it? These kids, Len, they kill me.”

“Yeah,” Leonard said. “Crazy.”

“Hey, your kid’s into dinosaurs, right?” Michael asked. “Why don’t you send the picture to her?” And then he laughed raucously.

Leonard echoed the laugh half-heartedly, eyeing the picture.

It wasn’t a bad idea, even if Michael thought he was joking.

(DOESSOMEONEGOINTOTHEPARKAND,UH,PULLUPTHEDINOSAURS’PAGEBREAKS?)

Jim was pretty sure Spock secretly found this fan mail stuff hilarious, even if all the man ever did was sigh and raise an eyebrow at him.

Jim sure did. It was kind of touching, too, because there were celebrities and rock stars and athletes and all sorts of other folks who were usually the idols and heroes for most people, but some people actually picked him, instead.

What nerds, right?

Then again, Jim was a nerd himself, obviously. Still. Hilarious and touching and hilariously touching.

He especially loved the ones from kids; the younger the better. The older kids asked more in-depth questions, sure, but the little ones’ questions were way more fun.

Like the boy who’d asked if Jim shared his toothbrush with dinosaur bones because he’d seen a picture of Jim using one to brush away dirt, and didn’t Jim know the difference between teeth and bones? Because that sure did look like a knee bone to little Tommy.

Adorable, really.

Besides, it wasn’t like he got a _lot_ of fan mail. Usually it was around what he liked to call Field Trip Season, when all of the schools pooled their money and took a trip to the local museum and suddenly every kid was sure they were going to dig up dinosaurs when they grew up.

“There’s another letter from Miss McCoy,” Spock said, holding the aforementioned letter up.

“Give me,” Jim said, grasping for the letter like a toddler for a favorite toy.

Joanna McCoy was one of his favorite fans. She was ten, but her first letter had come when she was six—young enough to ask if he’d ever met a real dinosaur since he sure did seem to know an awful lot about them. Unlike most of his ‘fans’, she had actually kept in touch; she read his books and gave him her opinions (ranging from almost scarily insightful to too cute for words), and sometimes divulged in details about her personal life. Her parents’ divorce, her dad moving away, her and her dad bonding over dinosaurs (which was just too awesome, in Jim’s opinion).

“Dear Jim,” he said, leaning against the counter. Spock and two of their interns, Janice and Kevin, listened intently. “Do you really count time by how many cases of beer you drink? Daddy says that’s not healthy and you should use a real calendar, and he knows because he’s a doctor. And if you have to drink you should try bourbon, instead. I think you shouldn’t because what if you’re drunk and go out and mess up a dig site? That’d be just awful.”

Janice giggled. After a certain incident involving someone (Jim) urinating on a tibia, a Designated Sober Person (the newest intern or the one who had managed to piss off Spock the most that week) patrolled the sites and turned away any wayward drunkards.

“Daddy met a little girl who got attacked by a lizard the other day, and he sent me a picture she drew of it because he thinks it looks just like a _Procompsognathus_. I do, too! It looks like a picture from one of your books. I’m sending you a copy; what do you think? Hugs and kisses, Jo-Jo.”

Jim turned to the next page, where a photocopy of the picture had been enclosed. He stared at it for a long time, eyebrows steadily rising. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“Let me see,” Kevin said, snatching the picture out of his hand. He looked at it and whistled low. “Kid’s right; it looks like a Compy. Crude, but I guess it was drawn by a little girl…”

“This is supposed to be real?” Janice asked as she peered over Kevin’s shoulder.

“You heard everything Joanna said about it,” Jim said, though he flipped her letter over to see if she’d written anything else (she hadn’t).

“More than likely it is an erroneous drawing of a contemporary lizard,” Spock said.

“Maybe the Compy’s are Lazarus taxa, like the coelacanth,” Janice said.

“Highly unlikely,” Spock said with the slight twitch of his mouth that meant he wanted to roll his eyes.

“That’s what people said about the coelacanth,” Kevin said in a sing-song tone of voice.

Spock grunted. “I suppose if it were true,” he said, though he was still very obviously doubtful of the possibility, “the chance to study a _Procompsognathus_ would be fascinating.”

“Yeah,” Jim said breathily, staring at the picture. “It’d sure be something.”

“Jim.” The door of the trailer slammed open as Gaila, one of the newer interns, all but threw herself inside. Her hair was tangled, covered in a fine layer of dust, as were her clothes and skin. “Jim, there’s a helicopter landing.”

“Goddammit,” Jim said, setting Joanna’s letter down as rushing out after her, Spock, Janice, and Kevin close on his heels. “If that idiot ruins my site, I’ll kill him.”

Most people didn’t realize it, but the badlands of Snakewater, Montana were a delicate workplace for paleontologists. People thought of it as unchanging, but in reality it changed all the time. Wind storms, rain—hell, you could hear rocks tumbling around all the time if it was quiet enough. It only took a few minutes of ill-timed weather near an improperly covered site, and hours of work were lost.

It didn’t help that the specimens they were uncovering here were small—juvenile dinosaurs, mainly hadrosaurs. Until the day before, when they had begun uncovering what Jim believed to be a juvenile velociraptor.

And, obviously, bringing a goddamned helicopter to an already ever-changing landscape was…ill-advised, to put it mildly.

“Shut it down,” Jim said, gesticulating wildly. “Shut it the fuck down.”

The pilot said something, words lost to the sound of the chopper. He pointed to one of the other trailers—Jim’s (the one they’d been in was Spock’s, because it had the comfiest couch).

“You’ve covered the site?” Jim demanded angrily as he headed toward his trailer.

“Of course we did,” Gaila said, insulted by the question. “As soon as we heard the damn thing.”

“Good,” he said, snappier than he meant, and gave her an apologetic look. She made a face at him, but said nothing more. “Go get Spock, would you?” She nodded and walked off. He barely refrained from doing something melodramatic, like kicking in the trailer door, instead opening it with enough force to make it slam into the side panel. “Who in the—”

“Dr. Kirk,” said Khan Noonien Singh, owner of _EnGen Inc_. and tremendously generous benefactor for Jim’s digs. He was leaning against the counter, swirling champagne—Jim’s good champagne, the stuff he was saving for a special occasion, like if the velociraptor skeleton turned out to be viable. “How good to see you again.”

“You…you, too,” Jim said, breathless because of more than just the sprint he’d just taken. Khan had that effect on people—the sort of charisma that was part of everything about the man, from his sharp facial features to his pepper gray hair; from the high collar of his shirt to his pointed designer shoes. “How have you been, Mr. Singh?”

“Oh, I have been quite well,” Khan said. “Quite well. My big project is well on its way to completion. Actually, that is why I am here.”

Khan’s ‘big project’ was a source of much contention amongst Jim and his colleagues.

Several years before, Khan had contacted Jim asking for a report about the behavior of baby hadrosaurs. Jim didn’t have much—no one did; before Jim’s discoveries in Snakewater only one dinosaur nest had ever been found—but, as Khan had pointed out at the time, he had more than anyone else. And then Khan had suggested a payment amount (five substantial digits), and all of Jim’s reservations had disappeared.

So Jim had drawn up a report on everything he’d gleaned thus far from his digs. It had included likely social interactions with older dinosaurs, eating habits, the whole works.

But Khan—or rather, his lawyer—had kept on calling at all hours of the day asking all sorts of questions. Would hadrosaurs eat this? What about that? Should the exhibit—that was the story Jim had gotten: that they were setting up some sort of extensive exhibit on baby dinosaurs—include this?

Eventually Jim had gotten sick of it, and settled for about a quarter of the original amount (which had still been enough to buy all the new equipment they’d needed at the time).

“Oh?” Jim asked.

“We are setting up a bit of a park,” Khan said. “One of its kind; absolutely unique. But, you know, there will always be naysayers whenever something monumental is about to happen. In this case, it is my lawyer. He is calling the safety of my park into question; he and my investors are insisting I get some experts to look into it, make sure everything is going according to plan.”

“Okay,” Jim said slowly.

Khan took a careful sip of his drink, swirling the champagne around in his mouth for a moment before he swallowed and said, “That is where you come in, Dr. Kirk.”

“It…is,” Jim said.

“Yes. I would like you to come down and look things over,” Khan said. “Just put their minds at ease—you know how investors are.”

Jim didn’t, not really.

“I can’t,” Jim said.

“Oh, no, I insist,” Khan said. “Just a little weekend getaway.”

“Jim, I insist we locate the imbecile who has dared bring such a disruptive machine—” Spock said as he entered the trailer, his usually perfectly coiffed hair dusty and ruffled. He stopped short when he caught sight of Khan, blinking rapidly. “Mr. Singh.”

“Dr. Spock,” Khan said with an amused quirk of his lips. “You know, actually, both of you should come.”

Spock looked at Jim, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“He wants us to go check out this park he’s building,” Jim explained quickly before turning back to Khan. “Listen, Mr. Singh, I’d love to, really, but we’ve just uncovered what looks to be the complete skeleton of a juvenile velociraptor, so…”

Khan seemed entertained by Jim’s statement for some reason, eyes twinkling. “We would be paying you the usual consulting rate, of course. Twenty thousand a day for three days...that would be sixty thousand dollars. And, if you can spare Dr. Spock, I believe it would be a wonderful idea for him to come along as well. At the same rate, naturally.”

A hundred and twenty thousand dollars would fully finance their dig for at least another two summers, if not more.

“Good, good,” Khan said when Jim nodded dumbly. “There is a private airfield just east of Choteau—you know the one? Right. Just be there at five pm tomorrow, and my jet will pick you up.”

“Thank you, Mr. Singh,” Jim said, already imagining the wonders the next two summers would bring, all for a single weekend of looking over some boring exhibit or park or whatever it was. “Thank you so much.”

“Absolutely my pleasure, dear boy,” Khan said. “Pack lightly. No need for a passport. I shall see you both tomorrow.”

(DOESSOMEONEGOINTOTHEPARKAND,UH,PULLUPTHEDINOSAURS’PAGEBREAKS?)

Jim and Spock, they discovered upon entering the jet, were not the only people Khan was taking with him to the island. There were three others: Christopher Pike, Khan’s lawyer; Montgomery Scott, a mathematical theoretician; and Nero Romulus, a computer expert. Scotty was coming in the same capacity as Jim and Spock, while Nero was coming to ‘fix a few pesky bugs,’ as Khan put it. Pike had apparently instigated the entire investigation, which Khan insisted upon calling an ‘outing.’

“Completely routine, you understand,” Khan said. “There are no unfixable problems in my park.”

“So you keep telling me,” Pike said. “But our investors still want me to check it out.”

“If there are any unfixable problems, they don’t have anything to do with my computers,” Nero said.

“Oh, it’s most certainly not a question of ‘if,’ lad,” Scotty said brightly. “But rather, ‘what.’ I expect it’ll all go to the shitter fairly quickly.”

“Oh, please,” Khan said. “Spare us your meaningless twaddle, Mr. Scott.”

“You hired me, Khan,” Scotty said. “Can’t help it if my calculations don’t fit your hopes and dreams, now can I? But I assure you, this park will never work. Not in a million years.” He grinned as if he’d suddenly found something very funny. “Not in a hundred and ninety million years.”

Jim frowned, looking at Khan. “What sort of a park did you say this was, again?”

“Oh, I never said,” Khan said.

“When you asked for my consultation, you said it was some sort of an exhibit,” Jim said. “But exhibits don’t need their own island.”

“Not unless they’re living,” Scotty said.

“Your jests are not amusing in the least,” Spock said.

“They aren’t meant to be,” Scotty said with what could only be described as a giggle.

“Would you care to elaborate?” Spock asked. Jim didn’t often see his dander up like this; it was quite funny to watch, when directed at someone else (for once).

“Not really,” Scotty said as he leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “It’ll all come to light soon, I’m sure.”

Khan scoffed, then shook his head and looked outside of the helicopter. “Ah, good. We have arrived.”

Jim looked out the window, letting out a low whistle. “Hot damn, what a little slice of paradise.”

“You have no idea,” Khan said with a smug little smirk that kind of made Jim want to punch him in the mouth, benefactor or not.

“Foggy, though,” Scotty said, peering down with something akin to worry. “We’ll land on the island?”

“I don’t like to,” Khan said. “It disturbs the animals. But there is nothing for it, I’m afraid.”

Jim locked eyes with Spock, mouthing ‘animals?’ Spock shrugged.

“Buckle up, folks,” the pilot said. “Gets pretty rough on the way down.”

It was a good thing everyone was already buckled up; there was no time to do so before the helicopter was descending rapidly, so close to the trees Jim could almost have touched them.

“We have to do it that way,” Khan said as they finally touched down, watching as Jim undid his belt with shaky hands. “The wind shear can be—well, we haven’t died, have we?”

“Not yet,” Scotty said cheerfully.

Khan’s mouth twisted into an angry scowl, but before he could say anything the door slid open.

“Hello, everyone,” the man standing in the doorway said. “I’m Ed Regis. Welcome to Isla Nublar; this way, please.”

He led them to a nondescript Jeep, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“It’s only a mile to the visitor’s center,” Regis said as they started down the rocky dirty road. “We originally planned to have the helicopter pad farther away, where visitors could see the animals, but—”

“We thought better of it,” Khan said. “Bit more wonder, this way.”

“What sort of animals are you keeping here, Mr. Singh?” Jim asked, sick of the secrecy.

“Oh, you will see, dear boy,” Khan said.

“I dislike surprises,” Spock said.

“You will like this one, I guarantee it,” Khan said and looked up with a grin at the huge gate looming out of the fog in front of them.

“Jurassic Park,” Jim read. It took a moment for the words to compute, but when they did he all but leapt out of his seat, clutching at Khan’s headrest. “Jurassic as in dinosaurs? Do you have dinosaurs here?”

There was a roar in answer, deep and feral and distant.

“The tyrannosaur is in a tizzy, again,” Regis said.

“Tyrannosaur,” Jim said, hardly able to breathe. “You have a tyrannosaur.”

“Two, actually,” Khan said, still grinning widely, eyes sparkling with mischief and glee.

“I’d prefer to get right down to business, instead of all this wonder and amazement nonsense,” Nero said gruffly, seeming entirely unimpressed by the idea of dinosaurs.

Living, breathing dinosaurs. Holy shit.

It was like all of Jim’s dreams had just been plopped down onto one little island. Except for the one with the lap dances and orgy, but maybe he could talk Spock into letting him use some of Khan’s money on himself instead of the dig. The thought stopped him cold.

“We’re completely obsolete, aren’t we?” he asked no one in particular.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘extinct,’ lad,” Scotty said, patting his shoulder. “But you aren’t, you know. Not in the least. After all, you’re studying actual dinosaurs.”

“I assure you, Mr. Scott, these dinosaurs are quite real,” Khan said.

“Let’s not kid ourselves, Mr. Singh,” Scotty said. “They might be a great recreation, I’ll give you that much, but that’s all they are.”

“Mr. Scott, they are a _perfect_ recreation—”

“No, they aren’t,” Scotty said. “Even if they were perfect DNA copies—which they aren’t, it’s impossible for them to be, and I’m sure your geneticist will tell us as much—there’s millions of years of social norms that these things will never have. It’s the whole nature and nurture thing. If you cloned a herd of modern animals, say, sheep, and kept them separate from actual sheep, you’d most likely find there are certain aspects of their behavior that aren’t at all like their real counterparts. So, again—great copies, but not exactly true to life.”

“And you think that is why the park will fail?” Khan asked.

“The park’s going to fail because it’s a fool’s run,” Scotty said. “But don’t try to blame the animals when it all goes to hell. Man’s folly created this park and man’s folly will destroy it.”

“And you will be giggling the entire time,” Khan said.

“Oh, no, I’m sure I’ll be screaming with the rest of you,” Scotty said with a laugh. “But if I get out of it alive? There might be a little giggling, yeah. And lots and lots of scotch.”

Khan made a disgusted noise and rolled his eyes.

“We’re here, gentlemen,” Regis said.

Scotty all but jumped out of the Jeep, grinning at them. “Now let’s go see how you’ve done it—I’m quite curious, you know.”

“What a funny little man,” Jim said to Spock as they headed inside.

“Funny is perhaps not the word I would use,” Spock said. “But he certainly is…something.”

“We’ll tour the facilities soon,” Pike said as they entered the Visitor’s Center. There was a huge model tyrannosaur in the middle, its jaws opened wide and facing the doors as if to catch visitors as they entered. “But first, for the reason you’re all here. What we need to have decided by the end of this investigation is whether or not the island is safe for tourists, and whether or not it is safely containing the dinosaurs.”

Pike motioned for everyone to take a seat as they entered a large meeting room.

“We have several pieces of evidence to review on the second matter. Dr. Kirk has provided us with a picture drawn by a young girl who was attacked several weeks ago, which is apparently of a…a…”

“ _Procompsognathus_ ,” Jim said, pulling the picture out of his pants pocket and handing it to Pike.

“The girl sent this to you?” Pike asked as he looked at the picture. He then passed it to Khan, whose lips thinned.

“No, she didn’t know what it was. Her doctor is apparently a dinosaur enthusiast, and sent it to his daughter, who shares his interest and is…sort of my pen pal, I suppose.”

“McCoy?” Pike asked. When Jim nodded, eyebrows raised, he said, “Her father raised quite a bit of a stink over it with the government in San Jose. Enough of one that they sent a man out to the coast, who found a fragmented specimen. I don’t believe they informed McCoy of the find, but we’ve managed to intercept the specimen. It should be delivered here shortly for your study.”

“Oh, good,” Jim said. He knew they probably wouldn’t have any of their own animals for him to autopsy, so this was an unexpected but appreciated surprise—if the specimen was actually a _Procompsognathus_.

“Beginning in March, there were increased reports of lizard attacks on young children along the coast, particularly babies. The reports tapered off near the end of the month, but I have this graph of the infant mortality rate which the Costa Rican health department was kind enough to send.” The lights lowered, and he pointed at a view screen, where a spiked graph appeared. “As you can see, there is a spike in March, then a low point in April before it is high again from May through last month, when the little American girl was bitten. So something is causing the infant mortality rate to rise, and it’s not being reported.”

The lights came up again. “That’s the evidence we need explained. Does anyone have any questions?”

“I have the answers to _your_ questions,” Scotty said. “No, this island is not safe for tourists. Yes, animals have gotten off of the island.”

“Oh, hogwash,” Khan said.

“Look, it’s not like I’m asking to be right all the time,” Scotty said. “It’s a terrible burden, really, not that anyone listens to me until it’s too late. Dinosaurs, beagles—”

“Beagles?” Jim asked.

“That is a very long story, and probably not one I should tell at this juncture,” Scotty said decisively. “The point is, I’m always right. I’ve always been right, before, and I’ll be right this time. I don’t always like it—hell, in this case I could die instead of…getting sent…far away…” He shook his head and coughed awkwardly. “Well, anyhow. Liking or disliking it isn’t going to change anything.”

“And you can tell all of that thanks to a picture, a possible specimen, and a graph?” Pike asked skeptically.

“The graph’s not got anything to do with this, first off,” Scotty said. “That’s a fairly normal graph of its kind. If I had to guess, the fluctuations are due to a new strain of flu or something. It would take hundreds of escaped animals to cause those sorts of numbers, and if that many animals had escaped you’d have noticed.”

“If any animals had escaped we would have noticed,” Khan said, face beginning to turn red despite the deep tan of his skin. Scotty ignored him.

“So how do you know animals have escaped?” Pike asked.

“Because it’s impossible that they haven’t,” Scotty said. “You’re attempting to make an isolated world full of clones of extinct creatures. But complete isolation is impossible.”

“Zoos do it all the time,” Khan said.

“This is not a zoo; not in the least,” Scotty said. “Zoos take existing nature and modify it very slightly, and you cannot honestly believe that, even with those very slight modifications, complete isolation has been achieved. Animals escape from zoos all the time. And this is a far, far more ambitious undertaking than a simple zoo. Its very nature requires absolute isolation, which quite simply cannot be done.”

“It’s done all the time,” Khan said.

“If you’ll excuse my saying so, Mr. Singh, you are full of shit,” Scotty said.

“You arrogant little snot.” For a moment it seemed like Khan might launch himself across the table at Scotty. Instead, he stood and stormed out of the room.

“If you please, gentlemen,” Pike said.

“I’d apologize, but I’ve said nothing but the truth,” Scotty said. “And apologizing for the truth would be ridiculous. And time-consuming.”

Pike sighed, and then cocked his head to one side, listening to something. “I hate to cut this short,” he said, though he obviously didn’t. “But I think I hear the helicopter with the sample for Dr. Kirk.”

“How come that helicopter comes straight here and we had to drive in?” Scotty asked huffily as they all stood to follow Pike.

“You’re supposed to be able to see the dinosaurs from the other helipad,” Regis said. “We’d meant to have the trees blocking them removed before you arrived, but didn’t get around to it. I guess no one told the pilot to just skip it.”

“Miscommunication is one of the biggest reasons for divorce, you know,” Scotty deadpanned.

“You’ve already had some of that scotch you mentioned earlier, haven’t you?” Jim asked, laughing when Scotty winked at him.

“Highly unprofessional,” Spock said.

Scotty was stopped from answering by a loud exclamation from up ahead. They looked to see Pike with his hands clenched at his sides, his face slightly red. He seemed to loom over Khan for all that he was at least half a foot shorter.

“This isn’t a goddamned social outing, dammit,” he said, his voice deceptively calm in spite of his previous outburst. “You seriously mean to tell me that you—”

“This is my island, Mr. Pike,” Khan said. “I will invite whomever I want.”

“This island is a potentially deadly place, Khan,” Pike said. “It’s no place for children.”

“This island is exactly the place for children; they are who it was built for. And it is perfectly safe, no matter what that booze-addled Scotsman—”

“You might be willing to risk that, but I sure as hell am not. Certainly I’m not willing to risk the lives of two kids,” Pike said. “You need to send them back—”

“The helicopter is already gone, dear boy,” Khan said with a note of triumph in his voice that the fading sound of rotors seemed to bolster. “Now I shall have to ask you to calm down, if you don’t mind. You will upset the children.”

Pike looked to be on the verge of apoplexy, but held his tongue as two young boys came into view. The older looked to be about eleven, with straight black hair styled into a neat little bowl cut. The other was a few years younger, eight or nine, and had curly honey brown hair that was anything but neat. Their hands stayed clasped together even when they ran over to Khan, the younger boy wrapping his free arm around Khan’s waist while the older grinned up at him.

“Hello, kids,” Khan said, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in Jim’s experience. He patted the older boy’s head with one hand while returning the younger’s hug with the other.

“Hey, grandpa,” the two children said in perfect unison, and then looked at each other and giggled.

“Now, let me introduce you to everyone,” Khan said. “Everyone, these are my grandchildren, Hikaru.” He put a hand on the older boy’s shoulder, and then the younger’s. “And Pavel.”

“You can call me Pasha,” Pavel said with a thick Eastern European accent. “And he’s Hiks.”

“Not to them I’m not,” Hikaru said, narrowing his eyes at them as if daring someone to use the nickname. Curiously, he didn’t seem to share his brother’s (cousin’s?) accent, instead possessing the American-neutral accent common to California.

“Nice to meet you, kids,” Jim said, holding out a hand for them to shake. “I’m Jim Kirk.”

Pasha let out a high-pitched squeak and dove behind Hikaru, peering out from behind him with impossibly wide eyes.

“What’s up with you?” Hikaru asked.

“That’s Jim Kirk, Hiks,” Pasha hissed.

“That’s what he said,” Hikaru said, blinking.

“He’s the dinosaur guy,” Pasha said.

“That’s me,” Jim said, crouching down in front of them. “You like dinosaurs, kiddo?”

“I read your book,” Pasha said. “And your articles. I really liked the one about the hadrosaurs being good mamas.”

“He likes stories about families,” Hikaru said.

“Me, too,” Jim said, sharing a smile with Pasha. He straightened and motioned at Spock. “This is my associate, Mr. Spock.”

“He’s a paleobotanist,” Hikaru whispered.

“I know,” Pasha said. “He studies _extinct_ plants.”

“Dr. Kirk studies extinct animals, and you still like him,” Hikaru said.

“Because extinct animals are awesome,” Pasha said.

Hikaru rolled his eyes—this was obviously a well-worn argument.

“And that’s Montgomery Scott,” Pasha said, flushing when Scotty blinked at him. “I read your book, too.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Hikaru said with a fond smile.

“You fence, Hiks,” Pasha said dryly.

“Sword fighting is cool,” Hikaru said. “There is nothing anywhere in the whole wide world that’s cooler than sword fighting.”

“If you kids don’t mind,” Nero said. “I’d like to get to work sometime this weekend.”

Khan clapped his hands together before the children could reply. “In that case, how about that tour?”

(DOESSOMEONEGOINTOTHEPARKAND,UH,PULLUPTHEDINOSAURS’PAGEBREAKS?)

Leonard scowled as he looked over his equipment. A few sets of clothes, his self-made emergency first-aid kit (because the store-bought kind were basically useless and, of course, not sold in rural Costa Rica), flint and tender, a pocketknife, toiletries, a water bottle, and as much food as he could fit in the space that was left.

He was forgetting something. He always forgot something.

“ _Señor_ ,” Tomasa said, holding up his little camera case.

“Tomasa! _¡Eres un angel!”_ he said as he took it from her, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

She giggled, rolling her eyes and clucking her tongue at him.

“ _Adiós_ , Tomasa,” he said, pulling her into a hug that made her swat his chest and laugh again

“ _Adiós_ , _señor_ McCoy,” she said.

“ _Señor_ , we must go now,” Emilio said. “The boat will not wait.”

“Right,” he said. “We’ll call you as soon as we can, Tomasa. If we don’t…well, we should hopefully be back by sometime tomorrow.”

Tomasa nodded and patted his arm once before turning to fuss at his replacement, Dr. Geoffrey M’Benga.

He hooked his camera to his backpack, which he then slung over his shoulders. “Let’s go, Emilio.”

“ _Sí_ , _señor_ ,” Emilio said. He led the way to the ramp of the SS _Anne B_ , the supply ship he’d bribed someone to let them onto.

A worker motioned at them surreptitiously and led them to a secluded area of the hold. He spoke to Emilio in rapid Spanish for a moment, and then looked around cautiously and left.

“We must stay here,” Emilio said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and wiggling for a moment until he was comfortable.

Leonard flopped down with a heavy sigh, propping himself up against a crate.

“A sleeping bag,” he said, shaking his head at Emilio when the other man gave him an odd look. “I forgot a damned sleeping bag.”

Emilio laughed. He stretched out on the floor using his backpack as a pillow and, as far as Leonard could tell, fell right asleep.

Well, Leonard had been in a horrifically failed marriage. He was used to sleeping sitting up (in an arm chair, a small part of his mind pointed out), and in various uncomfortable places (the small part of his mind didn’t have anything to add to that). He set his backpack up beside him so he could lean an arm on it, and then pressed his head back against the crate.

He closed his eyes. Images came (as they often did, lately) of the boy. Writhing, convulsing, bleeding and vomiting and bleeding some more. And of the girl, arm swollen, crying quietly, scarlet blood a stark contrast to her too-pale skin.

He shuddered, wrapped an arm around himself, and tried to go to sleep.

He wasn’t sure if he ever actually did, or if he just drifted somewhere between sleep and consciousness. After what only seemed like a few long, torturous minutes, the man from before shook him.

“We have arrived, _señor_ ,” Emilio said, though he gave the man a questioning look. The man nodded and shoved small packages in their arms. He led them off the boat, laughing with Emilio as if they were all three just workers. The deception seemed to work, and soon they were setting their burdens down and saying a final goodbye and thank you.

The man said something Leonard couldn’t understand, crossing himself and handing Emilio a small wooden rosary. Emilio nodded gravely as he took it, thanking the man once more.

“What did he say?” Leonard asked as they disappeared into the thick, foggy jungle of the island.

“He said he will keep us in his prayers,” Emilio said. “Because that is all we have left.”

Leonard wondered if perhaps he should have left well enough alone. But he thought of the boy and girl again, and tried to imagine if someone had watched those things happen to Joanna and then done nothing. Teeth grinding together, he quickened his steps.

“ _Señor_?” Emilio asked breathlessly.

Leonard looked up; realized he’d been staring at the ground as he walked. He thought for a moment that he was staring at more trees. Then, the huge thing he’d taken to be the trunk of a tree _moved_.

Mouth opening, though no sound came out, his eyes followed the ‘trunk’ up, up, up…

“Oh my God,” he said as the creature’s long neck twisted, glancing at Emilio when he heard the man echo the sentiment in Spanish. A head came into view, the branches of a tree hanging from its giant maw. “It’s a dinosaur. It’s a _motherfucking_ dinosaur. Oh my God.”

“ _Señor_ , it is impossible,” Emilio said.

“I know,” Leonard said. More and more of the beasts— _apatosaurus_ , his brain supplied—were coming into view. An entire herd of apatosaurs, with duckbilled hadrosaurs grazing alongside them. “But there’s no way those are robots. Holy fuck; what’s going on, here?”

“I do not know, _señor_ ,” Emilio said. He was worrying the rosary between his fingers, hands shaking. “Man must not play God, _señor_. Only God may play God.”

Leonard put a hand over Emilio’s, stilling them. “Let’s go. We have to get to the bottom of this. If they’re manufacturing dinosaurs…well, hell, obviously they aren’t just making the peaceful ones like those guys.”

The blood drained from Emilio’s face. One of his hands dropped to his side, and for the first time Leonard saw a pistol holstered there, mostly hidden by the straps of Emilio’s backpack. “ _Sí, señor_.”

“Come on,” Leonard said, hustling the younger man along. “Come on.”

“It looks like rain, _señor_ ,” Emilio said as they walked.

Leonard looked up and cursed. The sky, which was already darkening as the sun began to set, was quickly turning an angry black, dark storm clouds chasing away the bright colors of dusk. Now he remembered how the ocean had been choppy near the dock, the workers scrambling like ants.

“We’ll find somewhere to stay the night before that happens,” he said determinedly.

“Okay,” Emilio said. There was no sarcasm or disbelief in his voice, only the frantic kind of acceptance borne of desperation. “My friend said the North Dock is closer to the compound, but bad to stay at when there is a storm. East Dock is far away from people.”

“Wonderful,” Leonard said. He looked back at Emilio, who kept looking back at the dinosaurs fading in the distance and messing with his rosary. “Emilio, we’re going to be fine.”

Emilio nodded, but didn’t stop twisting the rosary around his fingers. “I am praying for us, _Señor_. God will help us be fine, here.”

“I don’t think God has anything to do with his place, Emilio,” Leonard said, and turned away before Emilio could respond. “And stop calling me _Señor_ , would you? Pretty sure we can drop the formalities, now.”

“Ah, _señor_ , _no entiendo_ ,” Emilio said with a weak laugh. It was an old joke from back when Emilio pretended not to understand English when Leonard had said something he didn’t like. It took Leonard several weeks (and a few rolling eyes compliments of Tomasa) to catch on.

“Don’t play dumb, kid,” Leonard said. “My name’s Leonard. McCoy if you absolutely need some sort of formality.”

“ _Señor_ Leonard?” Emilio asked.

“Drop the _señor_ ,” Leonard said. “You can do it, Emilio. I believe in you.”

Emilio laughed. “Leonard.”

“That’s better,” Leonard said, clapping Emilio on the shoulder. Emilio ducked his head, embarrassed, and Leonard was suddenly reminded of how young Emilio was. Probably only a little older than the boy who’d died. His breath caught in his throat. “Emilio…do you remember what that boy was saying, before he died?”

“What do you mean, _se_ —Leonard?” Emilio asked.

“He was…he was telling us what attacked him,” Leonard said. “What did he say?”

“ _Lo sa raptor_ ,” Emilio said, sounding puzzled. “The _hupia_.”

“Not a _hupia_ , Emilio,” Leonard said. “He was talking about a fucking velociraptor. Shit.”

“What is a velociraptor?” Emilio asked.

“We need to move faster, Emilio,” Leonard said, grabbing Emilio by the wrist and pulling him along, fear-induced adrenaline renewing his strength. “We have to get to shelter as soon as possible and pray to whatever God resides on this island that there’s some sort of phone.”

“Okay, Leonard,” Emilio said, matching Leonard’s pace. “You think velociraptors are here?”

The question made his footsteps slow. Surely this place must have cost…Christ, Leonard couldn’t even imagine it. So each animal had to be prized; protected above all else.

“No,” he said, relief washing over him like a splash of cool water at the end of a marathon. “No, they’ll have them somewhere else. Oh, God. Oh, thank God.”

Emilio looked down to where Leonard’s hand was still grasping his, knuckles white. “Leonard, you are not easily frightened,” he said. “What is velociraptor?”

“You know how people are always going on about how terrifying a T-rex would be face-to-face?” Leonard asked. Emilio nodded. “T-Rex would be a blessing compared to a raptor.”

“Oh?” Emilio asked, voice squeaking a little.

“T-Rex would just pick you up and shake you until you’re dead. It’d be relatively quick, all things considered,” Leonard said. “But a raptor…” He paused, mulling over the best way to explain it. “Their size—they’d have stood a little taller than humans—and the distribution of the skeletons archeologists have found implies they’d have hunted in packs. I mean, considering their prey would have been those fellows,” he motioned back toward the apatosaurs, “they’d have had to, obviously.”

“ _Sí_ ,” Emilio said.

“This archeologist my daughter idolizes, Jim Kirk, said one of them would be directly in front of the victim,” Leonard said. “The prey sees it, keeps still because as stupid as it is, everyone keeps still when they catch sight of a predator. Like not moving’s going to save you. And then the attack comes—not from the front, but from the side.” He shuddered. “They had one big hooked claw, like this,” he made a claw with his finger, “and they’d use those to cut their prey open. A slice across the chest, or at the abdomen, so your guts spilled out.”

“ _Ay dios mio_ ,” Emilio said.

“Point is, you’d probably still be alive while they were eating you,” Leonard said. His jaw clenched reflexively. “So, yeah. I’d take a T-rex over raptors any day.”

Emilio nodded wordlessly, eyes flickering warily at the jungle around them. Looking at Emilio’s pale face, Leonard was suddenly reminded that Emilio’s father had been killed by a wild animal. He reached out and squeezed Emilio’s shoulder.

Emilio gave him a weak smile, one hand gripping tightly to the holster at his side.

“Are you hungry?” Leonard asked, stopping abruptly. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

(DOESSOMEONEGOINTOTHEPARKAND,UH,PULLUPTHEDINOSAURS’PAGEBREAKS?)

The tour through the Visitor’s Center had been fascinating, to use Spock’s description—enlightening, to use Scotty’s.

“Mosquitos and amphibian DNA.” Jim shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

“Wonder how the amphibian DNA changed them,” Scotty said.

“Do they all have long tongues and eat bugs?” Pasha asked.

“I don’t think there’ll be anything quite so extreme, buddy,” Jim said.

“Such an obvious defect would have been corrected at once,” said Dr. Kodos, EnGen’s head geneticist. “Most of the defects have been eradicated in the latest versions, which are the animals you’ll see around the park.”

“Versions?” Jim asked, frowning.

“Yes,” Kodos said. “We have no real way of knowing whether or not we have made viable copies of the dinosaurs we’re cloning until we hatch and raise them. And, of course, sometimes there are errors in their coding which we catch as they’re growing. Then it’s back to the drawing board, and we have to start all over with that animal. We’re currently on version 3.0, though we’ve been considering moving on to 4.0.”

It bothered Jim on an instinctual level to hear dinosaurs being referred to as if they were computer programs.

“I see no reason to do so,” Khan said. “The dinosaurs we have are real.”

“Yes, of course,” Kodos said with the air of someone who had gone through the same argument again and again and deemed it a futile pursuit. “Why don’t we go to the hatchery and see what we’ve got, at the moment?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Jim said eagerly. “How many animals do you have, so far?”

“We have around two hundred and forty in the park right now,” Kodos said. “From about fifteen different species, I believe. Is it fifteen, Ed?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Regis said.

“You don’t know for sure?” Scotty asked.

“I lost track after the first dozen,” Kodos said with a shrug. “At one time I thought I had twice that, but as defects came to light and some animals have had to go back to the planning stage…well, we’ve only the fifteen, now.”

“And that pro-what’s-it—” “— _Procompsognathid_ —” “—is one of them?” Scotty asked, nodding his thanks to Jim for the name.

“Yes, and we made an unusually large number of them.”

“Why so many?”

“Waste management,” Kodos said. “As it turns out, Compys are sort of the Jurassic version of a dung beetle.”

“Triassic,” Pasha said. “ _Procompsognathus_ was from the late Triassic period.”

“Very good,” Jim said, chuckling when Pasha beamed up at him proudly.

“As you can imagine, we have a great need for such a natural waste management system,” Kodos said. “I assume most of you have been to a traditional zoo? Have any of you seen the size of an elephant’s droppings?” He hardly gave them time to nod or shake their heads. “Each spoor is about the size of a soccer ball. Many of the animals here are ten times the size of an elephant, and their droppings are proportional. And, unfortunately, the bacteria that breaks down their droppings disappeared at some point, so they aren’t biodegradable.”

“A shitty situation, to be sure,” Scotty said.

Kodos didn’t laugh. “Luckily for us, the Compys will eat and re-digest the larger dinosaur’s droppings, and their spoors are much, much smaller as well as being readily broken down by modern bacteria. So we’ve made about fifty of them.”

“Fifty is a very large number of animals to keep track of,” Scotty said.

“Our computers do that,” Regis said.

“But if one of them happened to get away…” Scotty said.

“You’re referring to the animal that attacked the little girl?” Kodos asked, and Scotty nodded. “It was a terrible incident, but not one caused by one of our animals.”

“How can you know for sure?” Spock asked.

“First, because of the computers,” Regis said. “They count the animals every five minutes; if one goes missing, we know about it very quickly.”

“And second, I’ve made sure these animals cannot survive outside of the park,” Kodos said. “They’re lysine dependent—they would die in a matter of hours if they were to get off of this island.”

“Here we are,” Regis said before anyone could ask another question. “This is Lenore Karidian, everyone, another of our geneticists. What’ve you got for us, Lenore?”

“The only animal we have today is a _velociraptor mongoliensis_ ,” a young woman said as she stood, brushing off her pants. “About six weeks old.”

“It looks like a lizard,” Nero said as they peered down at the small animal on the floor.

“You can positively classify it as a _mongoliensis_?” Spock asked, and then gasped as it hopped into Hikaru’s arms.

“It likes you,” Pasha said, pouting a little.

“It jumps,” Hikaru said.

“Yes, we’ve found them to be avid jumpers,” Lenore said. “And we’ve classified it as a _mongoliensis_ because the amber the DNA is from originated from China.”

“Are we sure that’s safe?” Pike asked, watching the little animal nuzzle its head under Hikaru’s chin.

“Oh, yes, she’s quite friendly, for now,” Lenore said. “And even if she wasn’t, the babies don’t even have egg teeth.”

“Egg teeth?” Nero asked.

“A little horn on the tip of the nose used to break open the egg. Raptors aren’t born with them—they use their snouts to poke the initial hole in the egg, and then the nursery staff has to help them out.”

“What happens in the wild?” Jim asked. “When they make a nest?”

“These animals don’t breed, Dr. Kirk,” Kodos said.

“Dear me, no,” Khan said as if the very idea were absurd.

“It’s another way for us to control the animals,” Kodos said. “And, yes, ensure they can’t get off of the island.”

“How do you know they don’t breed?” Scotty asked.

“Because all of our animals are female,” Kodos said. “We’ve engineered them that way.”

Jim hummed thoughtfully, crouching down next to Hikaru to look closer at the animal in his arms. “She’s beautiful. You know, Spock and I were in the process of digging up an infant _antirrophus_ when your grandfather brought us here.”

“Pasha’s the one who’s into that stuff,” Hikaru said, though he was grinning fondly down at the raptor in his arms.

“Are there big raptors, here?” Pasha asked.

“Yes,” Kodos said. “There are eight adults.”

“Do we get to see them on the tour?” Pasha asked excitedly. “Will they eat? I want to watch them eat. I’ve read the theories but I want to see it. Can I?”

“They aren’t on the tour,” Kodos said, exchanging an uncomfortable glance with Regis.

“Not for now,” Regis said with obviously forced cheer. “We don’t plan to integrate them into the park for a while, yet.”

“I see,” Scotty said, nodding as if it was something he’d expected. Khan glared at him, but he only perked up even further and said, “Speaking of the tour—will we be starting that, soon?”

“We can start as soon as you’re ready,” Regis said.

“Now, then,” Scotty said.

“Can we stay and play with her for a little while longer?” Pasha asked, running a finger up and down the raptor’s back.

“Please, Grandpa?” Hikaru asked.

“You will have plenty of time later, boys,” Khan said, patting Pasha’s head when his shoulders drooped. “Don’t you want to see the T-Rex?”

“You have a T-Rex?” Pasha asked, brightening immediately.

“Of course we do,” Khan assured him.

Pasha looked at Hikaru, eyes wide with excitement.

“Yeah, okay,” Hikaru said, opening his arms so the raptor could jump away. She did, and scrambled to one corner of the play pen, picking up a piece of cloth in her mouth and forearms, tugging at it viciously.

“She’ll be lonely,” Pasha said as they left, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Lenore will keep her company, dear boy,” Khan said.

“If you say so,” Pasha said forlornly.

“You promise we can come back, right, Grandpa?” Hikaru asked.

“Yes, yes,” Khan said. “Why don’t we take a detour past the adult raptors? Would you like that?”

“Yes, please,” the boys said in unison.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, sir,” Regis said.

“Nonsense,” Khan said. “They are quite trapped.”

“Yes, but—”

“The children want to see,” Khan said, giving Regis a stern look.

“Of course, sir,” Regis said almost too softly to hear. “This way, folks.”

They headed out to a large paddock outside of the Visitor’s Center, past a large shed which Regis identified as the generator.

Jim peered closely beyond the fence into the dense flora. Even Pasha was completely silent as they looked and listened for signs of life. After a few moments, though nothing seemed to stir, he could hear a soft snuffling sound, and the soft crunch of branches and dead leaves.

Spock’s hand brushed against his arm. “There,” he said, pointing.

Jim followed the line of Spock’s arm, but it still took him a moment to pick out the pebbled skin of the ancient predator. It watched them with dark, cold eyes, its mouth slightly open to reveal a long row of sharp teeth. It raised one of its forearms to slowly lower the fronds of the plant in front of it, and Jim was suddenly struck by the realization that it was hunting them. But it didn’t realize it had been spotted, or that—

Another two raptors burst out of the foliage, rushing toward the fence with unprecedented speed. They leapt into the air almost in tandem, their dagger-like claws seeming to glimmer in the sunlight for a moment before they struck the fence. There was a hiss and crackle as they fell back, and the group moved forward to get a closer look.

That was when the first raptor attacked, snarling at them just as it, too, ran into the fence. Pasha screamed as sparks flew around them. The raptors stood, growling low and feral. They leapt back into the forest and disappeared.

“Oh, wow,” Hikaru said, eyes wide.

“It was so fast,” Jim said. “I never expected them to move like that.”

“We’re sure it’s wise to have hunters like that in a park?” Scotty asked.

“Well, as we said, they aren’t being introduced into the park setting just yet,” Khan said.

“And they never will be, if you’ve got any sense at all,” Scotty said. “They were hunting us, weren’t they? They would kill and eat us if they could?”

“Yes,” Spock said. “I’m certain they would.”

“I only ask because I’m told large predators, like lions and tigers, aren’t born man-hunters. They learn somewhere along the way that humans are easy to kill. Yes?”

“Just so,” Spock said.

“And you’ve got to figure these animals have to be even more hesitant than lions and tigers. I mean, when they ruled the earth, there weren’t any large mammals at all, much less humans.”

“Right,” Khan said, fidgeting ever so slightly.

“So I wonder…” Scotty said. “Have they learned, somewhere along the line, that human beings are easy to kill?”

The group went deathly quiet, and walked away with the raptor’s scent—the nauseating scent of decay—lingering after them.

(DOESSOMEONEGOINTOTHEPARKAND,UH,PULLUPTHEDINOSAURS’PAGEBREAKS?)

“I want to ride with Dr. Kirk,” Pasha said, scrambling ahead of Jim before he could climb into the first car. He smiled at Jim, the expression enthusiastic if somewhat dimmed, as none of the had quite yet recovered from their run-in with the raptors. When Jim hesitated, Pasha patted the seat next to him encouragingly.

“Actually, buddy, Dr. Kirk is riding with me,” Pike said, ushering Hikaru into the car next to Pasha. “You two are riding with Mr. Regis.”

“How come I can’t go with you guys?” Pasha asked, stretching over his brother’s lap to lean out the door.

“We’re going to be talking about grown-up things,” Pike said.

“I’ll be very quiet,” Pasha said, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“There’s a radio,” Hikaru said. “It goes between the cars, right? So you guys can still squeal over dinosaurs together without being in the same car.”

“I don’t squeal, Hiks,” Pasha said.

“Of course you don’t,” Hikaru said, deadpan. “Just let them go. We’re going to be here all weekend—maybe they’ll let us go on the tour again and we can ride in the same car.”

“Fine,” Pasha said, pulling back into his own seat with an exaggerated pout.

“I wish I could ride with you guys, too,” Jim said conspiratorially just before he shut the door, and grinned when he heard Pasha giggle.

“Let’s go, gentlemen,” Pike said, motioning at Jim, Spock, and Scotty to get in the second car. They did—Pike and Scotty in the front two seats, Jim and Spock in the back. “We’ll just go ahead and get started, shall we?”

He leaned over and pressed button. The Land Cruisers lurched forward toward a huge gate, over which hung a hand-painted sign reading ‘WELCOME TO JURASSIC PARK.’

Jim was already getting goose bumps.

A rich baritone came over the speaker, welcoming them.

“That is Richard Kiley.” Khan’s voice came from the speaker. “We spared no expense.”

Their first stop was among two small herbivorous dinosaurs, _hypsilophodonts_ and _othnielia_. They were not, perhaps, quite so aggressively exciting as the raptors had been, but Jim wanted to stop the car. He wanted to sneak into the herd and lift up their feet, study their teeth; wanted to watch them for days on end and study their eating and drinking habits, the way they responded to predators—

Except, of course, predators weren’t allowed here. In spite of the fear and shock he’d experienced with the raptors, he found himself disappointed by their absence.

Perhaps one day Khan could be persuaded to make another island where the animals could roam free and intermingle. This park was incredible, he could already tell, but he truly longed to study these animals in their natural…well, in as close to their natural state as was possible.

He was brought back to the present by a loud smack against the window next to him.

“Along with such living reptiles as Gila monsters and rattlesnakes, _Dilophosaurus_ secretes a hematotoxin from glands in its mouth,” Riley’s voice was saying.

“They spit poison?” Jim asked, watching as the sticky substance dripped down the window. Craning his neck to look through a clear part of the window, he could see the V-crested head of the _Dilophosaurus_ ; through the glass, he heard it hooting softly like an owl.

“Up to fifty feet,” Regis said over the radio. “We’ve tried removing the sacs twice, now, but we can’t seem to find them.”

“We won’t find them until we can do an autopsy,” said a voice Jim didn’t recognize.

“That’s our game warden, Sean Finnegan,” Regis said.

“We’ll not be doing an autopsy on any of these animals, goddammit,” Khan’s voice said.

“In the meantime, we’ve programmed the car so you can’t open the windows,” Regis said loudly, as if to remind Khan of their presence.

“It spit on my window,” Jim said.

“Then you should be glad for the failsafe,” Regis said. “One of our workers nearly went blind thanks to that venom—we keep the antivenin all over the park, now.”

Now why, Jim wondered, would you need to keep the antivenin all over the park, if the dilophosaurs couldn’t escape?

**Interlude: Nero**

When _EnGen_ _Inc._ first approached Nero Romulus, he was actually rather excited about the project.

There was no reason not to be, back then. The pay was phenomenal, the work challenging.

But in the end it was too challenging—he was basically being asked to work in the dark. They’d told him what to do, but given him no details.

And the dimensions were so large…at first, he’d assumed it was a mistake. An extra zero, somewhere. But he’d checked and checked again—they actually wanted three _billion_ records.

So when Kodos said they were cloning dinosaurs…well, Nero was surprised, of course. They were making dinosaurs, for Christ’s sake. But he’d suspected cloning. Had known it must have been something to do with DNA, and what else would a bioengineering company like Khan’s want with DNA? They sure as hell weren’t into pharmaceuticals, or anything in the least bit humanitarian. Khan regarded humanitarians with no small amount of contempt.

Khan regarded most people with no small amount of contempt. He was also, Nero discovered, very good at weaseling his way out of paying more than that first offer.

Khan had called Nero over and over again—at one point, he’d insisted on extensive modifications but wasn’t willing to pay for it. Had claimed they were included in the original contract. Had, in fact, blackmailed Nero by writing letters to his other clients implying he was unreliable.

And while it had been a good price at first…with all of the extras, Nero was all but paying Khan to let him create the system.

And now this? The bugs, that condescending sneer, like it wasn’t obvious there’d be bugs after the conditions Nero’d had to work in?

“What goes around, comes around, Khan,” he muttered, leaning in close to the screen.

_system_

_id? nero_

_goto command level_

_id? nero_

_access #? 040/#xy/67 &_

_password? mr miner_

_goto security_

_keycheck off_

_unable to comply_

_safety off_

_unable to comply_

_sl off_

_unable to comply_

He scowled. Someone had tampered with his system. Not that it would matter, in the long run—he’d be gone and back so fast no one would suspect anything. He just didn’t like leaving any evidence behind…

Beggars and choosers, he thought. Hunching over his keyboard, he typed in, ‘ _red_matter.obj._ ’

He smirked. All programmers had a trap door—it was common sense. It was the easiest way to fix something the user screwed up.

And, of course, the easiest way to fuck them over if they decided to short change you.

_{security, perimeter} set to off_

He looked around suspiciously; no one else seemed to have noticed anything. He stood.

“I’m going to take a shit,” he said, unable to hide his sneer when Khan’s face twisted into a disgusted expression. “And maybe get a Coke. You guys want anything?”

“No,” Khan said.

“No, thank you,” Marla McGivers, the park’s chief engineer, said with a weak smile.

“Alright,” he said. Left and hurried down the hall, slipping into the fertilization room.

Of course, that Kodos fellow and his assistant—or whatever she was—were at dinner. Everyone was at dinner except for Nero, Khan, and McGivers. He was sure if Khan got his way, Nero wouldn’t eat more than power bars until he left. And from what he’d seen of that McGivers wench, she lived off of whatever shit Khan fed her.

Well, not Nero.

He entered the walk-in freezer and pulled a can of shaving cream out of his pocket. He unscrewed the bottom, revealing a hidden chamber.

He opened the chambers containing the embryos. They were arranged by species: Stegosaurus, Apatosaurus, Hadrosaurus, Tyrannosaurus, and several more. He recognized some of them from the map, but a few of them—Carnotaurus, Pachycephalosaurus—hadn’t been on it.

Oh, well. Not his problem.

He removed one vial of each species, slipping them into the can. Checked his watch—only two minutes had passed.

They were probably beginning to notice the security code scramble. Soon they would figure out the phone lines were down—they would remember him saying they would be, because supposedly he was conferring with his team on the mainland.

He wasn’t.

He allowed himself a moment to imagine the expressions on their faces. Then he strolled to the basement-garage, past the neat rows of useless electric Land Cruisers to the gas-powered Jeep on the far side.

Another glance at his watch. If he sped—and he would—it’d take him about five minutes to get to the east dock; another five to get back to the control room. They’d think he was taking a spectacular dump, for sure, but they’d never think anything more of it until way too late.

He cranked the car up and hit the gas.

(AHAHAH,YOUDIDN’TSAYTHEMAGICPAGEBREAK)

Nero pushed the gate open with his bare hand, rolling his eyes at the sign (ELECTRIFIED FENCE 10,000 VOLTS DO NOT TOUCH) hanging above his head.

He climbed back into the Jeep, frowning and squinting at his windshield.

This fucking storm—he was speeding, of course he was speeding. He had a timeline. But with all this rain…damn it. Not to mention the shitty excuse for a dock Khan had installed in the name of cutting corners and saving money.

After all, everything was riding on the boat. Or, more to the point, on Paul Marshall’s guy on the boat. If the guy wasn’t here…there was only enough coolant for thirty-six hours, and most of that time would be spent getting to the mainland. There just wasn’t any time for a delay.

Where the fuck was the dock? Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit.

Something darted out into the road ahead of him, and he cried out, jerking on the steering wheel. The car fish-tailed. He could see a curve ahead of him on the road, tried to slam on the brakes, but the damn roads were just dirt with a few handfuls of gravel.

The car tumbled down a steep incline, throwing him around in his seat. Finally, he skidded across another road and ran into a tree. He jerked forward in his seat, the seatbelt tightening around him and knocking the breath from his lungs. The airbag deployed, and he heard a sick crushing sound as his nose broke against it.

“Fuck,” he said aloud, rasping the word out. Took a deep, shuddering breath. He pushed the airbag away from his face. Coughing and wheezing, he stumbled out of the car.

He reached up and touched his nose gingerly, cursing again when pain shot through it. Clenched his teeth together and reset it. Vomited.

He looked at the road. Saw a sign lying over on its side where he’d hit it and nearly cried when he saw it said ‘East Dock.’ He couldn’t make out which way the arrow was pointing, and there was a fork in the road.

“Fuck,” he said for a third time. He looked at his watch, but the quartz was cracked. If it had cracked when he hit the tree…

He would have to go back. It’d be a close call, but if he stayed any longer everything was going to go even further to hell than it already was. He could probably pull it off—put the embryos back, call Marshall, erase the phone logs. He’d have to figure out a story for his nose and wet clothes on the way back. Maybe say he’d gone out for a smoke and fell, or some shit.

He was unhooking the back cable of the car when he heard it. A soft hooting sound.

He straightened, peering out into the rainy forest with a scowl. A small dinosaur, maybe the size of a pony, jumped out of the undergrowth. It cocked its head at him and made the same sound as before, like an owl.

“Oh, aren’t you just adorable,” he said, snarled, wracking his brain trying to think of what it was called. “Not like it fucking matters. Stupid-shit-o-saurus.”

It hooted again, bobbing its head up and down. Fuck, it really did look like some oversized bird. Even had a crested head like some fuck-ugly canary, only it had one over each eye.

The hoot gave way to a high-pitched cry, and he put his hands over his ears. It sounded like a kid screaming, horrible and terrifying in a way even the raptors’ snarls hadn’t been.

Something warm hit his shirt. He reached up and touched it. His fingers and the skin of his neck started tingling where they came into contact with it. He pulled away and looked at his hand. The viscous substance hardly dripped off at all even with the rain.

His eyes were still open when more of that stuff hit him. He fell back against the car, yelling. It had fucking spit on him, oh Christ. His eyes burned. He clawed at them. Hardly noticed the pain of his nails digging into his skin.

Another hooting cry. There was a sharp pain in his abdomen. He reached down. Felt something warm and slick in his hands.

Realized with stark, horrifying clarity that he was holding his own intestines.

He spun around and took a step forward. The dinosaur knocked him over. A scream tore out of his throat. Its claws ripped his shirt and dug into the skin of his back.

He struggled feebly, trying to knock it off. Froze when he felt it lean over. His face was pressed down into the mud. It nosed the nape of his neck for a moment. Its jaws opened and closed around his head.

Sharp, searing pain, and then nothing…nothing…

**Part II**

“Who in fuck’s name puts a fence in the middle of nowhere?” Leonard asked, staring up at the fence looming above them.

“We must go around, Leonard,” Emilio said, pointing to a sign that read ‘WARNING: 10,000 VOLTS’.

“Maybe if we follow it we’ll end up somewhere with people,” Leonard said. He turned slightly and let himself fall back against the concrete. “Might as well take a break, for now. Protein bar?”

“ _Gracias_ ,” Emilio said as he took the proffered bar. He opened it, and was about to take a bite when a loud crunching sound broke through the tranquility of the forest.

They looked at each other, both of them otherwise motionless. Slowly, Emilio reached down and took his gun out of its holster.

“It’s coming from the other side of the fence,” Leonard whispered as another crunch sounded.

Emilio nodded, and then motioned at Leonard to help him up onto the concrete base. When he was safely perched atop it, Leonard heard a soft gasp. A clinking sound told him Emilio had brought out the rosary once more.

Leonard tapped his hand against the concrete to get Emilio’s attention. He held his hand up, and Emilio took it, hefting him up onto the base beside him. Almost immediately, a gust of wind brought the acrid smell of rotting flesh to his nose. He put a hand over his mouth, partly to stifle his gag reflex and partly to keep himself from crying out.

There was a _tyrannosaurus rex_ on the other side of the fence. Its huge head jerked as it tore a strip of flesh from its prey: a large, half-eaten goat. It straightened as it chewed, looking around as if it was nervous. Dark blood dripped from its chin. Now that it was standing, Leonard could tell it was about eight feet tall. Its head was the size of the little battery-powered Barbie Jeep Joanna used to have.

Of course, the Barbie Jeep hadn’t had razor sharp teeth with bits of flesh hanging from them.

Emilio put a hand on Leonard’s arm, hand fisting in the material of Leonard’s shirtsleeve. Leonard looked at him, and Emilio jerked his head sharply away from the tyrannosaur.

Leonard began to nod, and then changed the motion to a hesitant head shake. He pulled his camera out of his pocket and turned it on. Hoped beyond all hope that the dinosaur wouldn’t hear. It didn’t seem to, intent on its kill. Leonard raised the camera and took a picture. And, fuck, he’d forgotten to turn the flash off.

The tyrannosaur looked up sharply, eyes training on the two men on the fence. It let out a fierce bellow. Leonard fell back onto the ground. The air was knocked out of him. His lungs burning as he tried to regain his breath. Emilio jumped down beside him. Stumbled. The dinosaur ran into the fence, sparks flying overhead as it continued to snarl and roar.

Emilio grabbed Leonard’s hand and jerked him to his feet. With his free hand, Emilio snatched their backpacks up off of the ground.

Gripping tightly to each other, they made their way North. Far away from the tyrannosaur.

Later, when the adrenaline had worn off and they could let themselves stop again, Leonard felt like an idiot. The fence was there for a reason. They had never been in any real danger of being killed by the t-rex.

“Why do they have a monster like that?” Emilio asked, breathing shakily though the perceived danger had long since passed. “If it escapes…”

“Yeah, I know,” Leonard said, shuddering at the very thought. “But moneymakers never think about that. A t-rex means good money—people are bloodthirsty, you know? They love a good show, and a scene like the one we just saw? People will pay thousands.”

“ _Es una locura_ _,”_ Emilio said.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Leonard said, and squinted up at the sky. “The weather’s getting worse. We might have to set up camp in a tree, or something.”

Emilio grunted. “If there is a fence, there will be buildings. Maybe we will not find one, tonight, but maybe we will, _sí_ ?”

“Not if we keep sitting, I suppose,” Leonard said. He took a swig of water from his canteen, grimacing when he realized how close to empty it was. “One good thing that’ll come from a storm—plenty of water.”

Emilio nodded, stretching and loosening the muscles in his tired limbs.

“Let’s go,” Leonard said, and began walking.

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

The Land Cruisers came to a stop at the rise of a hill. Riley said something about the _tyrannosaurus rex_ , and everyone in the car—even the ever-so-proper Spock—sat up straighter, crowding around the windows to get a look.

“Where is he?” Pasha’s voice asked.

“She,” Hikaru corrected.

“Even though they’re all she’s, we usually refer to the Rex as a he,” Regis said. “And he’s hiding. He’s a little shy.”

Jim pulled back from the window, nearly knocking heads with Spock, to look at the radio. “Shy?”

“We hardly ever see him out in the open, especially during the day,” Regis said. “We think he sunburns easily.”

Scotty actually giggled.

“That’s just not right,” Jim said. “You’re telling me T-Rex is a ginger?”

“That is highly offensive,” Spock said, glancing at Scotty.

“I’m calling him Ron from now on,” Jim said.

“We’re going to be best friends,” Scotty said.

Spock closed his eyes and sighed. If Spock wasn’t so set on being above such things, Jim was sure he’d be putting his hands over his ears and refusing to listen.

“Just wait, gentlemen,” Regis said.

Their attention was taken back to the area behind the fence as they heard a soft bleating sound. A goat on a short tether rose out of the ground, letting out sporadic cries.

“Is he going to eat the goat?” Pasha asked softly.

“Come on, kid,” Regis said. “Haven’t you ever eaten lamb chops?”

“Not when they’re still making noise,” Pasha said at the same time that Hikaru said “Lamb chops aren’t made of goat.”

The air was suddenly rife with the smell of a predator—the pungent scent of death and decay.

Jim stared out into the forest, and imagined for a moment that he saw movement. But it couldn’t have been the tyrannosaur, because it was too high up…

And suddenly he realized he was looking too low. The movement had been the tyrannosaur, far up near the top of the trees, its snorting breaths causing the branches around it to sway slightly.

“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” Scotty said.

For a moment longer there was only silence as they watched with baited breaths.

“When—” Pasha began, and the tyrannosaur sprang into action, much faster than Jim had ever dreamed of speculating. In only a few huge steps, what felt like the blink of an eye, the goat had been ripped from its tether.

The beast stilled, then, hovering over its kill, its huge head swinging back and forth suspiciously.

“What’s he doing?” Scotty asked.

“Probably afraid of another rex poaching his kill,” Jim said, nose pressed up against the glass. Periodically he raised an arm to wipe the fog from his breath away. “Will he stay to eat?”

As if in answer, the tyrannosaur bent down. One great hind limb came down on the goat’s head to hold it in place as he ripped off a hunk of flesh, straightening slightly to continue its cautious vigil while it chewed. For a moment, he looked straight at the Land Cruisers, intensely golden eyes sending a shudder down Jim’s spine.

“Excellent,” Regis said.

“Are the kids old enough to be watching this?” Scotty asked weakly.

“If that thing ever escaped…” Pike said, sitting back in his seat as they started forward again.

“There’d be no stopping him,” Jim said, running a shaky hand through his hair. “He’s got no natural enemies—we’d all just have to hunker down and pray he died before he burst into our house.”

“I have already told you, gentlemen,” Khan’s irritated voice overrode Riley’s lecture about apatosaurs, “these animals are never escaping.”

“Stop the car,” Hikaru said suddenly.

“What?” Pike asked. “Why? Do you need to vomit?”

“I saw a raptor,” Hikaru said. “In the grass over there.”

“Impossible,” Regis said.

“I swear it was; it looked just like the baby in the Visitor’s Center, only it was bigger. Somewhere between the baby and the big ones,” Hikaru said.

“I didn’t see anything,” Pasha said.

“I saw it,” Hikaru insisted.

“I’m sure you did, Hikaru,” Scotty said.

“No, he didn’t,” Regis said. “It was probably just one of the othys. They stay in the trees, and sometimes they end up hopping a fence. We have a hell of a time with them.”

“It was a raptor,” Hikaru said, tone verging on petulance. “I know it was.”

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

“A river, Leonard,” Emilio said, trotting back to Leonard’s side. He had run ahead to find somewhere for them to stop for the night, using Leonard’s pocketknife to hack arrows into the trees. “Lots of big trees, too.”

“Good,” Leonard said, wiping his forehead on his shirtsleeve. “River water will be faster and easier to get than rainwater.”

Emilio nodded. He kept jogging short distances in front of Leonard, eager to get to the river. When they finally reached it, he spread his arms wide and grinned, obviously proud of himself. (Damn kid kept reminding Leonard of how young he was. He should never have brought him along. Shit.)

“ _Bien_ , _sí_?” he asked. “A good place.”

And it was. There were several huge trees on either side of the river, their long branches wide enough that they might be usable as bridges the next day when the two of them headed out again. Possibly they could even be used to cross over into another section, if there were any near fences that didn’t lead into the _tyrannosaurus_ paddock.

“It’s a very good place,” Leonard said. Far off to the west, he could see the sun setting, like a giant yellow cookie being dipped into the river. The fog danced with golden beams of sunlight, twirling around as tree branches swayed in the breeze. He was sure that if and when they climbed into the trees, they would be able to see the apatosaurs’ dipping their long necks to get a drink. He could feel, suddenly, as if he had been transported millions of years into the past, into the land of the dinosaurs.

The only thing that broke the illusion was the lack of dinosaur sounds. He couldn’t even hear the hadrosaurs honking, anymore. In fact…

“This place is very quiet,” Emilio said, voice hushed, a tense hand coming to rest on Leonard’s arm.

“Yeah,” Leonard said. “Let’s refill our canteens right quick and get up for the night.”

“ _Sí_ ,” Emilio said, grip tightening on his handgun.

Nervous, Leonard scanned the surrounding trees.

And saw a yellow-green eye blink back at him from across the river.

His heart seized in his chest, and he grabbed onto Emilio’s arm. “Go. Go, go, go, now.”

Emilio gave him a confused look. Screamed as a raptor landed on his back, tackling him to the ground.

Leonard picked up a rock from the streambed and beat it against the raptor’s head. It fell over with a shriek. He took hold of the straps of Emilio’s backpack, forcing the other man to his feet.

Emilio stumbled as he ran, bleeding heavily from his side. He stopped at the nearest tree and gripped Leonard’s arms, forcing him up bodily. “Climb, Leonard.”

Leonard turned to help Emilio up, but the other man wasn’t behind him. A gunshot sounded, and he saw Emilio running upstream, the raptor hot on his heels.

“Emilio?”

“Keep climbing,” Emilio said, firing off another shot. The raptor yelped and ducked into the river.

Another raptor leapt out from the bushes. Its clawed feet landed on Leonard’s backpack. Leonard let out a frightened yell. Latched onto a vine to keep himself from falling off the tree. The raptor squealed with pain as a third shot from Emilio knocked it away.

“Emilio, get back here, dammit,” Leonard said.

Emilio reached another tree and began climbing.

A vicious snarl. Leonard watched helplessly as a third raptor, the one he’d seen from across the river, streaked across the streambed.

It launched itself at Emilio. Emilio turned to shoot at it. The shot missed.

The raptor hit his chest. He let out a horrible cry as he fell to the ground.

Leonard could see a splash of red as Emilio beat on the raptor’s head weakly with the butt of the pistol.

The raptor’s head jerked up. Emilio had been eviscerated—the raptor was chewing on his intestines while he was still alive. Emilio was yelling. Cursing in mixed Spanish and English. Crying and pleading.

Leonard began to climb down, shouting Emilio’s name. Stopped when he saw one of the other raptors rushing to join the first.

Emilio let out one final, ragged scream. The second raptor clamped down on his neck. A vicious crunch cut through the air. When the raptor straightened, a large chunk of Emilio’s throat was held firmly in its jaws.

Leonard cried out. The first raptor raised its head and looked at him, hissing and crouching low, its reptilian mouth seeming to curl into a bloody, wicked smile.

Leonard turned and began climbing again. Adrenaline hastened his movements though tears clouded his vision. He looked down. The raptor was jumping up to reach him. He was high enough that it couldn’t. Still, the other two raptors joined it, snapping their jaws in frustration.

He reached a resting point, an odd flat section of the tree as the trunk branched out. It was about the size of a queen bed, but he stayed perched at the edge, looking down at the raptors. He let out a gross sob as they continued their futile attack, completely forgetting about Emilio’s corpse.

In the distance, thunder rumbled.

Maybe the storm would cause the river to flood and drown the stinking, miserable beasts.

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

“Ah, shit,” Regis said. “One of the stegos is sick, again.”

“Sick?” Jim asked as the Land Cruisers pulled to another stop. The _stegosaurus_ in the field near them lay on its side. It looked ridiculous, with a large, hulking body that tapered to a small, pointed snout. Its eyes drooped stupidly, giving it the appearance of a misshapen cow.

“Again?” Scotty asked.

“Yes and yes,” Regis said. “They get sick every few weeks...ah, there’s our vet, Dr. Uhura.”

A tall black woman came out from behind the stegosaur, nodding shortly at them. She reached out to run her hand alongside the stego’s belly, a worried frown on her face.

“She’s beautiful,” Jim said as he climbed out of the car.

“She’s anesthetized,” Uhura said. “So you can touch her, if you like.”

“Awesome,” Jim said. He laid himself over the stego’s side, grinning stupidly as her breathing—though slightly labored—pushed him up and down easily.

Uhura clucked her tongue at him.

“She stinks,” Pasha said, waving a hand in front of his nose.

“Is it her natural odor?” Spock asked as he peered down at the creature before him curiously.

“No,” Uhura said. “The herbivores here are like herbivores everywhere; their scent is very mild.”

“So it’s because she’s sick, right?” Hikaru said, crouching next to the stego’s head. “She’s got bumps on her tongue.”

“Those are blisters called microvesicles,” Spock said, leaning over Hikaru for a closer look. “Fascinating.” He straightened. “May I ask what her other symptoms are?”

“All of the stegos get it,” Uhura said. “One or two of them display signs of imbalance, labored breathing, and massive diarrhea every six weeks or so.”

“Fascinating,” Spock said again. “Such a lengthy period between sicknesses would suggest it is not poisoning from a plant, correct?”

“Yes,” Uhura said. “They eat constantly, so it’s unlikely a plant is causing this.”

“May I?” he asked, indicating the flashlight at her side. When she handed it to him, he crouched next to the stego’s head and shone a beam into her eye. “Are there pupillary effects from the tranquilizer?”

“A miotic effect, yes,” Uhura said.

“But her pupils are dilated,” Spock said.

Uhura cursed under her breath. “That’s a pharmacological effect.”

“Indeed,” Spock said. He stood and surveyed the surrounding area. “They graze in this area?”

“North and east of here, mostly,” Uhura said. “But this is where they are when they get sick.”

“Those plants,” he said, nodding at a nearby bush with small white flowers.

“It’s West Indian Lilac, yes,” she said.

“ _Melia azedarach_ ,” Hikaru said. “That’s poisonous, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Spock said, cocking an eyebrow at Hikaru, and then at Uhura.

“The animals don’t eat them,” she said. “We’ve been monitoring them extensively.”

“Yet their symptoms are clear indicators of _Melia_ poisoning,” he said. Uhura nodded. “Curious.”

“Hey, you two, stop flirting over a sick dino,” Jim said.

“We are not flirting,” Spock said, the last word coming out with a disdainful edge.

“Of course you aren’t,” Jim said.

“We should head back to the lodge,” Regis said, raising an arm against the wind. “It’s not a good idea to be out here when the storm breaks.”

“I believe I shall stay here, with Dr. Uhura,” Spock said, narrowing his eyes at Jim as if daring him to comment.

“Me, too,” Scotty said abruptly. They all looked at him, and he shrugged. “I don’t know much about these animals, or animals in general, but sometimes a fresh pair of eyes can help.”

“You just want to watch Uhura bend over, again,” Jim said.

“Oh, no, I just find all this to be terribly exciting.” Scotty might actually have managed to look innocent if not for the light blush dusting his cheeks.

Uhura rolled her eyes. “I could use the help taking a few pictures. The vesicles will have cleared up by tomorrow.” She gave Scotty what could only be called a coy look. “There’s also some hands-on investigating to do.”

If Scotty’s mouth stretched any wider, he’d cut his face in two.

“Everyone who’s going back, get into the cars,” Regis said, already ushering Pasha and Hikaru back to the first car.

“Can’t I ride with Dr. Kirk this time?” Pasha asked, but Regis was already shutting the door.

Just before Jim shut his door, he heard Scotty exclaim, “That is one big pile of shit!”

“Oh, jeez,” Pike said with a chuckle, leaning back in his seat. “She’s sure got his number.”

“Spock’s, too,” Jim said. “Trust me.”

“Is it the shorts?” Pike said.

“Believe it or not, that guy is probably captivated solely by her brain,” Jim said. “It’d be kind of sickening if it wasn’t also kind of adorable and awesome.” He glanced back, surprised to see the first drops of rain splattering against the back windshield. “Then again, Scotty seems nice.”

“A bit crazy, but yes,” Pike said.

“Maybe they’ll have a threesome,” Jim mused, leaning his seat back so he could prop his feet up on the dashboard. Pike choked on air, and Jim snickered.

Bright floodlights turned on around them, illuminating the road but also, thanks to the rain, giving the road an ominous, tunnel-like look. He tapped his fingers against his thighs to the staccato beat of the rain hitting the windshield, and almost didn’t notice when the car began to slow.

“Are we stopping?” Pasha’s voice asked over the radio. “Why are we stopping?”

“It’s probably just—” Regis cut himself off as the lights suddenly went out. “Dammit.”

Jim leaned forward and fiddled with the control panel. “I can’t hail the control room.”

“Probably this damned storm,” Regis said.

“You should probably refrain from cursing in front of Mr. Singh’s grandchildren, Ed,” Pike said. “I’m sure it’s just a little power shortage; it’ll pass in a few minutes.”

They sat in silence for what felt like a long time, though a glance at his watch told Jim not much time had passed.

“Hey, look, night vision goggles,” Hikaru said. “Sweet.”

“Those are probably expensive, kiddo,” Pike said. “Be careful.”

“I will—whoa,” Hikaru said. “Something just ran past us on the road.”

“The same thing you saw in the _apatosaurus_ paddock?” Jim asked, sitting straight up in his seat.

“No, bigger. Not the rex, though,” Hikaru said. “I didn’t get a good look.”

“See anything now?” Pike asked.

“No,” Hikaru said. Then they heard a shaky gasp, like Hikaru had tried to scream and breathe in at the same time.

“What is it?” Jim asked.

“The rex is at the fence,” Hikaru said.

Jim looked. Lightning flashed. For a moment he could make out the rex’s outline beyond the fence.

There was a sharp metallic clang. Jim heard what sounded like a car door opening.

Pasha screamed, “where are you going?”

“What happened?” Jim asked. “Pasha? Hikaru?”

“He left us,” Pasha said, his voice a high-pitched moan. “He left us, he left us.”

“Shut the door, Pasha,” Hikaru’s voice said, panicked and breathy.

“He left? You mean Regis left?” Pike asked, hands on the dashboard as he tried to make out what was happening in the other car.

“Because the fence isn’t electrified anymore,” Hikaru said.

“The fence is out?” Pike asked. Realized at the same time as Jim that the metallic sound from before was the first line of wire being ripped away. “Oh my God, the fence is out.”

“Dammit, Pasha, close the door and shut up.”

Pasha let out a low wail. The sound was muffled a moment later and then stopped entirely. Jim thought Hikaru had probably put a hand over Pasha’s mouth.

“It’ll be okay, kids.” He wasn’t sure it would be. The tyrannosaur was tearing away the rest of the fence with ease. “Just stay in the middle of the car and be quiet.”

“Okay,” Hikaru said. The radio went silent, like he had shut it off. The tyrannosaur stepped into the road, blocking Jim’s view of the other car. It let out a ferocious bellow.

Lightning. Jim could see it bending over the other car. He heard Pasha scream even over the sound of the storm. Twisted around in his seat to rummage through the back of the car.

“What are you doing?” Pike asked.

“It might be attracted to light,” Jim said. Heard something like a gunshot. Wondered if the rex had somehow burst one of the tires. “Maybe we can get it away from the kids.”

“And then what?” Pike asked. Jim pulled out an emergency flare and opened the car door. “Ah, hell.”

With a vicious jerk he activated the flare. He yelled until the rex looked at him. He waved the flare. The rex followed the movement. It started toward him, jaws opening to let out another gut wrenching roar. Jim threw the flare away.

It veered away from him to follow the light. Stopped when, with a hiss, Pike triggered another flare. But Pike didn’t throw it away immediately. He turned and started running. By the time he did think to get rid of the flare the rex had already oriented on him. It dipped its head. Jim didn’t see what happened next Just heard Pike yell.

He turned to face the other car, but _the other car was gone_.

A heavy footstep fell near him. Instinctively he froze. Slowly, he pressed himself up against the side of the Land Cruiser.

The rex stopped in front of him. It looked right down at him, but didn’t attack. Instead it cocked its head to one side. Jim wondered if it was deciding how best to bite him.

Its nostrils flared, huffing its sour breath into his face. It let out a soft, almost confused noise. Roared again.

But Jim held his ground. He was beginning to understand the tyrannosaur couldn’t see him so long as he held still.

Frustrated, the rex went for the car. It slammed its head against the hood. Jim closed his eyes and forced himself not to move. To keep himself calm, Jim began formulating theories as to why it couldn’t see him. Most prey’s first instinct was to freeze. No predator would survive long if it couldn’t see unmoving game.

Probably it had something to do with the amphibian DNA used to plug up holes in the strands, he decided.

The tyrannosaur roared and kicked the Land Cruiser. Jim could do nothing but gasp as the car swung around and hit him. He went flying through the air for a few feet before he hit the ground.

He heard the rex grumble disappointedly once more before he finally lost consciousness.

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

Leonard huddled under the raincoat Tomasa must have packed, bless her, and carefully changed the film in his camera. He shivered as a thunder clap sounded in the distance—it sounded almost like the rex.

The raptors below him screeched with anger as they continued their futile attempts to jump high enough to get to him. The camera whirred loudly as he popped the new film into place, and the raptors paused, curious. He leaned over the edge—one of them immediately hissed and renewed its efforts—and snapped a picture. Damn storm probably meant none of these pictures would come out, but he had to at least try.

“Ugly bastards,” he called down. They screamed almost as if they’d understood him, but stopped as the bottom finally fell out of the sky. One by one they gave up and left, though the final one glanced back and snarled before it finally disappeared into the forest.

They didn’t take Emilio’s body with them.

Leonard curled up as much as he could, clutching the backpack close to his chest. With a shudder that wracked his entire body, he began to cry again.

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

Upon waking up, Jim was surprised to find he was basically unharmed other than a mild concussion and some bruising.

Mostly, he was surprised to have woken up at all.

Gingerly, just in case some of the bruising was worse than he thought, he stood up. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle. The tyrannosaur was nowhere in sight.

He looked around for a moment before his eyes finally landed on the other Land Cruiser—it was in the _tyrannosaurus_ paddock. In a tree.

He grimaced, wondering if the kids could possibly still be alive, and crossed over into the paddock.

“Dr. Kirk?”

His head whipped around. Pasha peered out at him from inside a storm drain.

“Oh my God,” he said, running over to the drain and gathering the shaking boy into his arms. “Oh my God, you’re alive.”

Pasha might have nodded, or he might just have just shivered particularly hard. “I don’t know where Hiks is,” he said miserably.

“We’ll find him,” Jim said, setting Pasha back down. “I think he might still be in the car, okay? So I’m going to go climb up it and see if I can find him. You stay here.”

“Don’t leave me,” Pasha said, latching onto Jim’s shirttail. “He left us. H-he left us.”

“I’m not leaving, Pasha,” Jim said, putting his hands on either side of Pasha’s face and pressing their foreheads together. “Okay? I’m not leaving. I’m just going to find your brother.”

“Okay,” Pasha said, though he whimpered when Jim released him.

“It’s going to be alright,” Jim said. “I’ll be within sight the whole time, so you can watch me.”

Pasha nodded, curling up into himself and watching Jim with wide eyes.

Jim turned and looked up at the tree the Land Cruiser was in. With a sigh—he liked working in the badlands for more than just the chance to study juvenile dinosaurs—he grabbed hold of the first branch and hoisted himself up.

“Hikaru?” he asked as he neared the car. “Hikaru, are you there? Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” said a weak voice.

“I’m coming to get you, buddy,” Jim said. He peered into the Land Cruiser. “Are you okay?”

“I threw up,” Hikaru said, hunched on the opposite side of the car.

“That’s okay,” Jim said. “I throw up all the time.”

Hikaru gave him a skeptical look.

“No fooling, kid,” Jim said. “Now why don’t you get over here—slowly, okay?—and we’ll get you out of this tree. Pasha’s really worried about you.”

Hikaru nodded jerkily, moving at an almost comically slow pace. A sob burst from his chest when he got to Jim.

“You’re okay,” Jim said. “I’ve got you.”

“I don’t want to be here, anymore,” Hikaru said.

“Me neither,” Jim said. “So let’s go. You sure you’re alright? I don’t need to carry you, do I?”

Hikaru managed a weak smile as he shook his head.

“I’ll go first,” Jim said. “But make sure you test the branches before you step on them.”

Hikaru nodded.

They got down a few branches before they heard a screeching whine above them. They looked up. The Land Cruiser broke the branch it was on and careened toward them. It was halted by another branch just before it hit them.

“Come on. ” Jim barely touched the branches as he climbed down. Hikaru was right behind him, so close that when one of the branches gave way beneath Jim’s feet, Hikaru fell with him.

Jim cried out as he hit what felt like every branch between him and the ground. The breath was knocked out of him when Hikaru landed on top of him. The car groaned above them again and fell.

In the distance, Jim heard Pasha scream. He twisted his body around Hikaru’s.

The front of the Cruiser landed behind them, at the base of the tree. It fell toward them with an angry moan. Something had apparently happened to the sunroof, because it landed in just the right way to frame them. The loud crash made Jim flinch and clutch harder at Hikaru.

There was silence for a moment as Jim tried to catch his breath.

“Well,” Hikaru said finally. “We’re out of the tree.”

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

Leonard waited an hour before he finally deemed it safe enough to get down from the tree. He left his backpack, intent on returning quickly, but he needed…he had to…

When he was a few feet away from Emilio’s body, he closed his eyes and took a deep, quivering breath. And then he opened them again and crouched down at Emilio’s side.

Hands shaking, he pried the gun out of Emilio’s hand. He carefully removed the holster from Emilio’s hip, and then rolled the man over. He gritted his teeth together so he wouldn’t vomit as he maneuvered the backpack off of Emilio’s shoulders. He rolled Emilio back over. He looked around for a moment before finding Emilio’s half-chewed head, which he picked up delicately and put it in its proper place. He closed the eye he could—the other was gone—and smoothed down Emilio’s clothes. He started to pose Emilio’s arms, but stopped when he saw the rosary still wrapped tightly around Emilio’s left hand.

Swallowing thickly, he took the rosary. He pulled himself up onto his knees, folded his hands, and bowed his head.

“ _Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo._ ” He stopped and licked his lips, struggling to remember the rest. “ _Santificado sea tu nombre. Venga tu reino. Hágase tu voluntad en la…la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día. Perdona…perdona…_ forgive us our trespasses… _como también nosotros per…perdonamos a los que nos ofenden. No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal. Amén._ ”

He sat there for a moment longer before a sound in the wood made him get up again. He hesitated, but eventually stuffed the rosary in his pocket and went back to the tree.

“ _Líbranos del mal_ ,” he said as he climbed. “ _Líbranos del mal._ ”

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

“Quiet,” Jim said, pulling the kids close. They looked up at him, confused, but froze when they heard the sharp crack of a stick breaking underfoot. Not under their feet, though.

From their spot at the top of a wooded hill, they saw Ed Regis. He stood stock still, the forest deadly quiet around them.

Pasha opened his mouth to say something, but Jim put a hand over it. He pulled them against the nearest tree. Pushed them down into the huge, gnarled roots. When he looked again, it took a moment for him to find Regis.

Regis was pressed up against another of the trees. Eyes wide, lips pursed.

Jim realized Regis was holding his breath. He wondered what Regis knew that they didn’t. A soft exhalation answered the question. It happened again—a soft snorting sound.

 _“Something just ran past us on the road_.” Hikaru had said. Jim realized it must have been the juvenile rex—and that it had at some point come back into the paddock with them.

The little rex—right, _little_ , the thing was at least eight feet tall—shuffled onto the path, moving with the same clumsy gait of all juvenile animals. Like a puppy. An eight foot tall killer puppy.

It paused and sniffed the air. Took a few steps, paused. Sniffed the air again. It continued like that until it disappeared from sight.

Regis relaxed a little. He didn’t move away from the tree until the forest filled with sound again. He took one step. A second.

The juvenile appeared out of nowhere. It rammed Regis to the ground with its massive head. Regis yelled and didn’t stop yelling. He waved his arms wildly and told the rex to back off. He sounded like a lion tamer.

The juvenile regarded him with some strange mixture of confusion and amusement. Regis scrambled back. Whenever he tried to get to his feet the juvenile butted him again.

With a shiver, Jim realized it was playing with him.

“Back,” Regis said. “Get back, you damn dirty animal.”

After a few more minutes of this, the rex finally seemed to get its fill of the game. It knocked Regis onto the ground one more time. It put a foot on his chest and leaned over. Regis’ scream almost blocked out the piercing crackle-pop of bones breaking. Suddenly he stopped making any noise at all. The rex straightened, blood dripping from its snout.

“Oh, no,” Pasha whispered.

Hikaru turned and vomited loudly. The rex’s head snapped toward them. Its black, doll-like eyes met Jim’s.

Jim grabbed Pasha and Hikaru’s hand and jerked them out of their hiding spot. He ran as fast as he possibly could with them in tow.

They didn’t stop for a long time. Long past when Jim was sure he could no longer hear any sign of the juvenile following them.

“I’m tired,” Pasha said, gasping for air.

Jim braced his lower body against a tree, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. “Me, too, buddy.”

“Me, three,” Hikaru said, wiping his forehead on his sleeve. He squinted at something in the distance. “Is that a fence?”

“Yeah,” Jim said. “Yeah, it looks like it is. Good eye, Hikaru.”

“Good eye,” Pasha echoed.

“Let’s go,” Jim said. “We should get out of this paddock as soon as possible.”

“But I’m tired,” Pasha said. “I want to stop walking.”

“C’mere, buddy,” Jim said, crouching down so Pasha could climb onto his back. “Can’t do this for long, okay? Just until we get to the fence. But we’ve got to get out of the tyrannosaur paddock before we stop for the night.”

“Okay,” Pasha said, burying his face in the crook of Jim’s neck. “I’m sorry, Dr. Kirk.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Pasha,” Jim said. “And call me Jim, okay? Dr. Kirk is my mom.”

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

“There’s someone there,” someone exclaimed.

Leonard woke with a start.

“They’re dead,” someone else said, horrified.

He got up on his hands and knees and went to the edge of the branches. Three people, a man and two children, were standing at the other side of the river, looking across it at Emilio’s body.

“It looks like he was attacked,” the man said.

“What in God’s name are y’all doing out here?” he asked, flinching when the littlest boy screeched. “It’s dangerous, you half-wits. There are fucking dinosaurs on this island.”

“Wha—who are you?” the man asked, squinting up at him in the darkness.

“Get up here, first,” Leonard said. “Before you get yourselves eaten.”

“This is the apatosaur paddock,” the older boy said. “It’s safe, here.”

“Paddock?” Leonard asked, frowning. “Look, all I know is there were velociraptors out here not much more than an hour ago, and y’all should get up here before they figure out the rain’s stopped and come back.”

The three of them looked at each other, paling. They made their way across the river and up Leonard’s tree.

“Y’all look like you’ve been through hell,” Leonard said as he pulled a blanket out of Emilio’s backpack and draped it around the younger boy’s shoulders. He gave his own to the older boy, deftly checking them both as they wrapped the blankets around their shoulders.

“Something like that,” the man said. “You don’t look much better.”

“Not surprising,” Leonard said, and offered the man a hand. “I’m Leonard. Leonard McCoy.”

The man blinked in surprise as he shook Leonard’s hand. “Do you happen to have a daughter named Joanna?” he asked.

“Yes,” Leonard said, eyeing him warily.

“I’m Jim Kirk,” the man said. “We exchange letters.”

“Holy shit, you mean Dr. Jim Kirk? The archeologist?” Leonard asked.

“That’s me,” Jim said. “This is Hikaru,” he indicated the older boy, and then the younger, “and that’s Pavel. Pasha.”

“What are y’all doing here?” Leonard asked.

“Grandpa owns the island,” Pasha said.

“I’m part of a survey team,” Jim said.

Leonard’s eyebrows furrowed. “Part of a—you know what? Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

“ _EnGen_ —you know _EnGen_? Good—found a way to clone dinosaurs,” Jim said. “This is supposed to be a park. He invited me and a few other specialists to come look it over; make sure it was safe for tourists.”

Leonard shook his head, jaw clenching. “I figured it was some sort of park because of the fences and all, but…cloning dinosaurs?”

“Yeah,” Jim said. “It’s actually…I mean, it’s pretty incredible, really.”

“So how’d you end up here?” Leonard asked, motioning at the tree.

“Apparently the power failed for some reason while we were on a tour of the island,” Jim said. “The t-rex got out and…” He grimaced. “So did we.” The kids shuffled closer to him. “Anyhow. How’d you get here?”

“My daughter sent you the picture of the _Procompsognathus_ , right?” Leonard asked. Jim nodded. “A little girl was attacked by one of them on the beach a few miles from where I work at a clinic. I’m a doctor, if Joanna didn’t tell you.” Jim nodded again. “A few weeks before that, _EnGen_ brought a worker in. Claimed he’d gotten caught under a backhoe, but it looked like an animal mauling to me. Not to mention he kept saying something about a raptor.”

Pasha shuddered. “Those things are scary.”

“Yeah,” Leonard said, looking at Emilio’s body. “I did some research, and a friend of mine and I came here to investigate.”

Jim was quiet for a moment, following his gaze. “That your friend?”

“Yeah,” Leonard said again, voice soft, eyes glazing over.

“I knew I saw a raptor, earlier,” Hikaru said quietly. “I knew it. It wasn’t an othnielia like Regis said.”

“Well, they’re probably nocturnal,” Jim said. “We should be able to move on in the morning.”

“Move on to where?” Leonard asked.

“Back to the Visitor’s Center,” Jim said. “That’s where everyone else will be.”

“And how, exactly, are we going to find it?” Leonard asked.

“I think we can follow the river,” Jim said.

“No,” Leonard said. “That’s a bad idea. That’s a _horrible_ idea, as a matter of fact.”

“It’ll bring us right up to the enclosure where the Visitor’s Center is located,” Jim said.

“Look, maybe you only study dead things, but I’ve lived in a goddamned jungle long enough to know you don’t stay near a water source for long if you can help it. That’s where the carnivores go for an easy meal, when their prey is bent over to get a drink.” Like Emilio’s father. Like Emilio, _fuck_. “Besides, I’m betting the river ain’t anything like a straight shot to the Visitor’s Center. So unless you’ve got a boat conveniently stashed away in your pants, we’re stuck walking. Which could take days.”

“So what do you suggest?” Jim asked.

“We can follow the fence,” Leonard said. “The area nearest to it should be nice and even for us to walk along, or we can climb up onto the base. And there are lots of trees around if we need a quick escape or a place to sleep.”

Jim considered for a moment. “We might be closer to motion sensors, too, so maybe Control can find us when they get the computers back online. I think I remember someone saying they couldn’t put any sensors on the river.”

“Okay, then,” Leonard said. He looked over at the fence. “You have any idea which way we should start in to get to the Visitor’s Center?”

Jim shrugged and laid back. “We’ll have to go North, I’m pretty sure.” He yawned. “We can figure it out in the morning.”

Leonard nodded, mouth twitching at the expression on Jim’s face when the kids curled up beside him.

He curled up in the fetal position, pulling out one of Emilio’s spare shirts to use as a blanket. Pasha’s steady breathing reminded him of Joanna, and he fell asleep listening to it.

He woke up with a face full of curls. At some point Pasha had moved next to him, blanket thrown haphazardly over the both of them.

“He said you looked cold,” Jim said from where he and Hikaru sat.

“Sweet kid,” Leonard said, carefully extricating himself from Pasha’s side. “I’m going to refill the canteens. There are protein bars in both backpacks.”

“Thanks,” Jim said.

Leonard shrugged and grabbed the two canteens, as well as his hip flask. They would need water more than he needed booze.

He climbed down carefully, stopping every so often to look around. When he got to the ground he heard soft chittering from somewhere behind him.

He turned. There were small, chicken-sized dinosaurs— _Procompsognathus_ , he was sure—perched on Emilio’s body.

“Get,” he said, picking up a rock and throwing it at them. They scattered for a moment before approaching the body again, cautious but determined. “Go on, now, get.”

“Just leave them,” Jim said. “They’re scavengers.”

Leonard stared at them, wishing the force of his glare would warn them off. It didn’t, of course. His hands clenched at his sides. Shoulders rigid, he went to the river and washed the canteens off.

By the time he’d climbed back up into the tree, the kids were awake and munching on protein bars.

“Can I have some?” Pasha asked, holding his hand out for a canteen.

“Not yet,” Leonard said, scrounging around in his backpack. It took him a minute, but eventually he pulled out a small bottle of iodine. It was a miracle it hadn’t broken at some point the night before. “Have to make it safe to drink, first.”

“But I’m thirsty,” Pasha said.

“We have no idea what might be in this water, kid,” Leonard said. “It’s probably festering with all sorts of ungodly bacteria. It’d be a damn shame for you to survive a t-rex attack only to die from cholera.”

“Cholera?” Jim asked. “Really?”

“Or worse,” Leonard said. “Who knows what nasty diseases these dinos carry? Just one little scratch and we could all wake up with our eyeballs bleeding.”

“You’re very strange,” Hikaru said.

“We’re on an island infested with man-eating dinosaurs,” Leonard said. “Life is very strange. I’m just paranoid.”

Pasha giggled.

“How long until it’s ready?” Hikaru asked, eyeing Leonard suspiciously.

“Half an hour,” Leonard said, standing. “We should go ahead and get going.”

Hikaru paled a little as he looked over the edge. “I really hate climbing down trees.”

“There’s no car in this one, Hiks,” Pasha said.

Leonard blinked. “Why do I get the feeling you skimmed over a few things, last night?” he asked Jim.

Jim chuckled. “Probably because I did. Let’s go.”

“Don’t go near those things,” Leonard said as they reached the bottom of the tree, narrowing his eyes at the Compys. “They might seem like scavengers, but they did attack a healthy little girl about your size, Pasha.”

“Pike thought they might have been attacking some babies along the coast, too,” Jim said. “He showed us this graph about infant mortality, but Scotty said that didn’t have much to do with escaped dinos. So I don’t know…”

“Do you think Mr. Pike made it?” Pasha asked.

“I sure hope so, kid,” Jim said. “I mean, hell, maybe he got lucky. Maybe Regis and Dr. McCoy’s friend are the only people who’ll have to die, here.”

Leonard snorted. “You’re forgetting the part where people are idiots, Jim. If this Khan guy is crazy enough to do all this…who knows what it’ll take for him to wise up?” He shook his head. “And don’t forget, Emilio and that Regis fellow aren’t the first to die. There was one construction worker I know of; who knows how many others?”

“That’s true,” Jim said. “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t even allowed any heavy artillery to be brought in.”

“Exactly,” Leonard said. “I’ll bet you cash money it takes more than this for Khan to shut down the park.”

“We won’t let him,” Jim said. “Spock and Scotty will agree with me, and so will Pike, if he’s alive.”

“Sure, kid,” Leonard said. “I’m sure it’ll be as easy as that.”

“Maybe not easy, but we’ll get it done,” Jim said. “I don’t do no-win scenarios, Bones.”

“You did not seriously just call me Bones,” Leonard said.

“A sawbones who’s into archeology?” Jim asked. “What else would I call you?”

“I have a name,” Leonard said. “It’s a nice name.”

“Yeah, if you’re fifty,” Jim said.

“Any age,” Leonard said.

“How are the raptors having babies?” Pasha asked suddenly.

“Pardon?” Leonard asked, mildly horrified at the thought of having to give someone The Talk. There was a very good reason as to why he’d chosen trauma over gynecology or pediatrics.

“Dr. Kodos said the dinosaurs couldn’t have babies,” Pasha said. “But the raptors did. How come?”

“That’s a good question,” Jim said.

“I was wondering why they weren’t keeping better track of the breeding,” Leonard said. “For raptors to get into the apatosaur paddock, I mean.”

“It’s probably got something to do with the DNA they used to patch up the broken strands,” Jim said. “I noticed last night that the rex couldn’t see me if I didn’t move.”

“What’s that got to do with breeding?” Leonard asked.

“Because no predator would evolve in a way that wouldn’t allow them to see movement,” Jim said. “That just wouldn’t work. But some amphibians have. So there must be some sort of amphibian that can reproduce in a single-sex environment.”

“The Common Reed Frog can change sex,” Hikaru said.

Both adults looked at him.

Hikaru shrugged. “My mom got me a subscription to ZooBooks last year for my birthday.”

“I remember that one,” Pasha said. “ _Hyperolius viridiflavus_.”

Leonard snorted and shook his head.

“And you kids called me strange.”

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

“Can we stop and eat, soon?” Hikaru asked. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” Pasha said, steps slowing. “Is there anything besides protein bars? They have coconut.”

“Not a fan of coconut, huh?” Jim asked. Pasha made a face and shook his head. “Me, neither.”

“I guess we’re due a break,” Bones said. “There’s a sensor over there; let’s eat by it. See if we can trigger something.”

“Even if we can, we—hey,” Jim said, running ahead. “That looks like a maintenance building. We might be able to call the Control Room.”

“I think that’s still the tyrannosaur paddock,” Bones said. “I don’t remember seeing any other barriers to indicate a different area.”

“Not yet, no,” Jim said. “But we have to tell someone about the raptors in the park. And we have to get these kids somewhere safer than here.”

“Then I’d better go by myself,” Bones said.

Jim let out an indignant squawk. “What? No, I’ll go. Why should you go?”

“Because you’re a fucking dinosaur expert,” Bones said. “Who better to get these kids through a dinosaur park?”

“I think a doctor’s a pretty handy guy to have around,” Jim said with a scowl. “Can you even climb that thing?”

“Can I—don’t be an idiot, Jim,” Bones said, dropping his pack on the ground next to the base of the fence. “Besides, you’re injured. Don’t think I haven’t noticed; you have some bruised ribs, at the very least, not to mention those massive bruises.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts, goddammit. Give me a boost,” Bones said.

Jim glared at him, briefly considering his chances at getting up on the base by himself. But they were no longer in a heavily wooded part of the apatosaur paddock, and Bones would probably grab him by his belt and yank him back down before he could get very far on his own.

He sighed and laced his fingers together, boosting Bones up. “Be careful, Bones.”

“Keep calling me that and I might decide having a dinosaur expert around is overrated,” Bones said, and then grumbled something Jim couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” Jim asked, squinting up at him.

“I said when we get out of this hellhole, I’m never climbing anything ever again,” Bones said. “I’m a doctor, dammit, not a rock climber.”

“And that’s an electrified fence, not a cliff,” Jim said, stifling a grin when Bones looked down and glared at him. “But I agree. Climbing’s not really my thing.”

“Really?” Bones asked as he threw a leg over the top wire, straddling it long enough to wipe his face. “Figured you for an adrenaline junkie.”

“Oh, I am one,” Jim said. “Parachuting, bungee jumping, surfing…but not climbing. I just never really liked it.”

Bones grunted noncommittally.

“What’s an adrenaline junkie?” Pasha asked.

“Someone who likes doing dangerous things,” Jim said. “I’m guessing the good doctor isn’t one.”

“After everything I’ve seen? Kid, if you think a dinosaur mauling is bad, you’ve obviously not seen enough of the stupid shit humans do to themselves,” Bones said. “I once had a kid with an honest-to-God light bulb stuck in his ass.”

“A light bulb?” Hikaru asked.

“Yeah, he was—anyhow, that’s nothing. It’s one of the good things about moving to Costa Rica. I haven’t seen half so many brainless idiots,” Bones said.

“Why’d you move?” Pasha asked.

“Ugly divorce,” Bones said after a moment’s pause. For a moment it seemed like he would elaborate, but instead he said, “Might move back to the States after this, though. I’m getting a little sick of jungles.”

“You should come back to Montana with me,” Jim said. “Our on-site doctor is looking to retire.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bones said. Jim could hear his eyes rolling. “I’m going to leave an island full of live dinosaurs to go study dead ones.”

“At least the skeletons won’t try to kill you, Bones,” Jim said with a weak chuckle.

Bones snorted. “Okay, I’m going to go inside, now. Y’all stay safe while I’m gone.” He jumped down from the base, cursing loudly when he landed.

“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” Hikaru asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Jim said. “Let’s go ahead and eat while we wait. Hey, look, there are apples in here.”

He offered one to Pasha, but the boy shook his head.

“You don’t like apples, either?” he asked as he took a big bite.

“I don’t want Dr. McCoy to stay gone,” Pasha said.

Jim frowned at him.

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away,” Pasha said.

Jim choked on the bite he’d taken, coughing and laughing in turns.

“That’s just a saying, Pasha. It isn’t real,” Hikaru said with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Jim said, coughing once more to clear his throat the rest of the way. He handed an apple to Pasha. “I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than an apple to keep Bones away.”

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

The maintenance building wasn’t much of a building, Leonard observed as he stepped inside it slowly. It wasn’t much more than a hut, really. Probably the tyrannosaurs didn’t come to this area often, or at least were knocked unconscious when workers needed access.

The windows let in enough sunlight to allow him to see, but he still tried the light when he found a pull cord—it didn’t work. Which probably meant the phone in the corner wouldn’t work, either. He tried it anyway, just in case, but no luck.

Disheartened, he continued his search. Surely there was something useful…

He brightened when he found a small first-aid box on the wall, and stuffed its contents into a small canvas bag lying on the table. He made for the door, but stopped again when he heard a voice.

“—ound Ner—dy,” said someone, voice crackling like it was coming from a radio.

_A radio!_

“C—gain, Finn—” someone else said.

“Found Nero’s body,” the first voice said. Softer, like they were farther away from the radio, someone said, “—king disgust—”

He scrambled to find the source of the noise before the transmissions stopped, overturning the table and knocking things to the ground. Finally he found it: a small handheld radio. He held down the push-to-talk button.

“Hello?” he said. “Hello, can anyone hear me?”

“—‘s this?”

“My name’s Leonard McCoy,” he said. “I’m a doctor. I’m in the…the apatosaur paddock with Jim Kirk and two kids, Pasha and Hikaru.”

“—e say—nd kids?” someone asked. Someone else asked. “—ere’d you sa—”

“The apatosaur paddock,” he said. “Near the maintenance building in the tyrannosaur paddock.”

“—kay,” someone said. “—ome get—go t—oad?”

“Repeat that,” he said. “Where?”

“Serv—oad?”

“The service road,” he said. “Yes, we can go there. We’ll…”

He froze, thumb still on the push-to-talk button, eyes wide.

Something outside the building made a soft snuffling sound. The hut suddenly smelled of rotten flesh and musk. Slowly, he turned his head.

A tyrannosaur leaned down to look into one of the windows.

(MODESTYFORBIDSMEFROMTELLINGYOUTHEDETAILSOFAPAGEBREAKNAMEDAFTERME)

“He’s been gone a really long time,” Pasha said, eyebrows furrowing as he glanced up at the fence.

“I’ll bet he found a phone,” Jim said, putting an arm around Pasha’s shoulders. “He’s just calling for help, that’s all.”

“He should’ve said something,” Pasha said, tapping out a nonsensical beat on his leg.

“He’s fine, Pasha,” Hikaru said. “Don’t worry so much.”

Pasha huffed. He made a face, bringing the apple up to his nose and sniffing delicately. “Do you guys smell that? It smells like something rotten.”

Jim’s head snapped up as the smell reached him. He stood. Taking a running start, he jumped onto the concrete base. It took him a good minute of wriggling and straining to get all the way up.

The juvenile rex was bent down next to the maintenance building. Just past its head, inside the building, Jim could see Bones.

Bones’ eyes lifted and met his.

He shook his head, mouthing, “Don’t move.”

Bones’ jaw tightened.

“Hey,” Jim said loudly. The rex’s head jerked up. It turned to look at him. “Over here, you stupid son of a bitch.”

It crouched. Snarled as it rushed forward and ran into the fence.

Jim jumped back and nearly fell off the base. He ran. “Get to this side of the fence, Bones,” he yelled.

The tyrannosaur roared. Jim roared back at it. It was fast—faster than an animal that size had any right to be and much faster than Jim. It kept stopping to gnaw at the fence. The fence seemed strong enough to hold the juvenile even without electricity.

“Come on, you ugly fuck,” he said, vaulting over a low-hanging branch. A siren began to wail.

There was a pause in the rex’s attack. He looked over his shoulder.

It had turned away from him. Going for Bones.

Bones swung a leg over to the apatosaur side of the fence.

“No, hey.” Jim shoved his arms through the fence. “Hey, look. Come and get me, dammit.”

The sirens wailed even louder. He wondered if the rex could hear him over them. He started climbing, pausing at every rung to yell at the rex.

Bones slipped and fell. His leg got caught in the wires.

Hikaru was trying to climb up onto the concrete.

“Hey,” Jim said, climbing up a little further. “Hey, Juvie, come and get me.”

Bones pulled free and fell. He landed on the base with a pained exclamation.

The rex huffed at him and turned back to Jim.

“That’s right, you nasty little cuntosaurus,” he said, jerking his arms in an attempt to jiggle the wire.

“Get down, Dr. Kirk,” Pasha said. “Get down.”

The rex was getting closer, jaws widening.

Jim braced himself to jump.

With a huge jolt, he was thrown from the fence. He heard Pasha scream. Saw the rex slam into the fence. Sparks flew as it screeched with pain.

And then he blacked out.

**Interlude: Kodos**

“Real dinosaurs,” Kodos said, scoffed, nostrils flaring as he strode down the hallway.

Lenore Karidian followed close on his heels. “He’s an idiot, Daddy,” she said.

“There is always room for improvement,” he said, sweeping into the dining room. “People are even now trying to map out the human genome so they can improve upon it. Why not dinosaurs?”

“And there are so many problems with them,” Lenore said, balancing two trays in her arms and watching him load them up with food. “The rex is too fast, the raptors too vicious…the hipsys have a skin disease, the stegos are always getting sick…”

“Yes, yes, I know,” he said impatiently. He immediately regretted his snappish tone when he saw her doleful expression. “I’m sorry, my dear. Khan is just…infuriating. I don’t mean to take my frustrations out on you.”

“I know,” she said, beaming at him. They sat down at a table in the corner, and ate undisturbed. The workers knew better than to try to sit or socialize with them.

He sneered as he watched one of them take a far too large bite of salad. Filthy, contemptuous people, these workers Khan had found.

But cheap. Cheap was important to Khan, except in the cases of the heads of the departments. Kodos himself had been snatched up right out of graduate school some thirty years prior.

Kodos could remember those times. He’d already taken a university posting, but knew universities were falling out of power even then. And now? It was laughable; he’d not allowed his daughter to even consider somewhere besides _EnGen_.

Not that she’d been terribly interested in any other posting. She was such a darling child.

They ate mostly in silence. Sometimes he would speak, voicing an idea he had for a solution for some genetic problem or an improvement for something else. She was always quiet while he thought aloud. Commented occasionally, and very, very rarely gave voice to an idea of her own.

They were usually quite good, and he wondered if she spent all her spare time thinking of them so she could impress him, or if she was almost as brilliant as he himself was.

He patted her head as he stood and took both their trays despite her protests. Threw them away and allowed her to loop her arms around one of his as they walked back to the lab.

(THEPAGEBREAKRISES.ITRISES.THERE’SNOTIMETOSLEEP)

They were hard at work when the screaming began. Hardly noticed it, at first.

“Daddy?” Lenore said. He grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the nursery. Watched in distant horror as a man with a missing forearm opened the door. A raptor tackled him into the room.

Lenore screamed.

The raptor looked up at them. Blood and ragged bits of flesh clung to its chin. It hissed and stepped off the writhing body of the still living worker.

Kodos pushed Lenore into the nursery. He slammed the door closed.

He hurried Lenore to one corner of the room, far away from the door. He tried to shoo the juvenile raptor away when it hopped over to them. Lenore picked it up, cradling it in her arms. He scowled, but crouched in front of her. Waited for the adult raptor to realize it couldn’t get through the door, lose interest, and leave.

And then the handle turned.

He pressed a hand over Lenore’s mouth as she took a breath to scream, again. Watched the door creak open. The raptor’s snout appeared. Its lithe body crept in the room.

The juvenile screeched. The adult’s head jerked toward them. Kodos grabbed the juvenile and threw it at the adult. He grabbed Lenore and stood. He dragged her to the other side of the room.

There was the unmistakable sound of the adult tearing into the juvenile. Lenore choked on a sob. The juvenile’s high-pitched cries were cut off abruptly.

Kodos slid his cardkey into the slot. Stepped back to push Lenore through to the next room.

He let out a startled yell as something heavy landed on his back. Looked up at Lenore’s angry shriek. She smacked the raptor with a clipboard.

“Lenore, no,” he said. Tried to say. The crushing weight on his back didn’t allow him the breath to speak.

He hardly saw the raptor move. Just saw Lenore rear back. Her chest splashed red across the floor. Her intestines spilled out of a vicious cut along her stomach. Heard the shocked noise she made as she drooped to the floor.

She tried to put her intestines back in her stomach. Her movements were jerky and sluggish.

He tried to move again. The raptor’s feet twisted. Its claws dug into the flesh of his back. Eyes wide, he watched the raptor’s head come into view as it crouched low atop him.

“Lenore,” he gasped, reaching toward her. “Lenore.”

She opened her mouth as if to speak. Suddenly listed to one side, eyes open but unseeing.

The raptor’s jaws closed around his neck. He heard more than felt the snap of it just before everything went black.

**Part III**

“Jim,” Leonard said, ignoring the pain in his side as he ran toward Jim’s prone form.

Above Jim’s body, the tyrannosaur made one final attempt at getting through the fence. It bellowed angrily, and then let out a softer sound. Leonard thought it sounded like it was pouting. It turned and left, shaking its head irritably.

Leonard skidded to a halt next to Jim, falling to his knees.

“Goddammit Jim, you idiot,” he said. He put a hand to Jim’s throat—there was a pulse. But, he realized when he put his head near Jim’s mouth, Jim wasn’t breathing.

“Is he okay?” Pasha asked, voice on the edge of hysteria. “Is Dr. Kirk okay?”

“Keep him back, Hikaru,” Leonard said. He pinched Jim’s nostrils closed and put his mouth over Jim’s, pushing air into Jim’s lungs.

“He’ll be okay,” Hikaru said, voice trembling, as Leonard performed CPR. “He’ll be okay, won’t he?”

Leonard didn’t stop to answer. A few tense minutes passed. Heart sinking, he tried once more.

Jim gasped, eyes fluttering open. Leonard pushed him over onto his side as he coughed and struggled for air.

“You’re alright, Jim,” Leonard said. “One of you boys go get that canvas bag.”

Hikaru ran to get it, returning quickly with an odd expression on his face. “Your bag’s talking.”

“I found a radio,” Leonard said, pulling the radio out and handing it to Hikaru. “Talk to them while I bandage Jim’s hands.”

“Hello?” Hikaru said. When there was no response, he repeated the statement louder.

“You have to press the button, first,” Pasha said, reaching toward the radio. Hikaru held it away, and a small tussle broke out between them.

“Boys, not now,” Leonard said.

Hikaru pressed the talk button down, sticking his tongue out at Pasha. “Hello?”

“—at Hikaru?” someone asked.

“Yes,” Hikaru said.

“Switch channels,” Pasha said, reaching for the radio again.

Hikaru leaned away from him. “I’m switching channels. Channel four. I repeat, channel four, over.” He changed the channel.

“Can you hear us, now?” the voice asked.

“Yes, we can hear you,” Hikaru said.

“What happened?”

“The baby rex attacked us,” Hikaru said, ignoring Leonard’s cry of “Baby?”

“Damn. It’s in the apatosaur paddock, too?”

“What does he mean, ‘too’?” Leonard asked.

“No, Dr. McCoy had to go to the t-rex paddock to look in the maintenance building for a phone,” Hikaru said. “Are you coming to get us? We’re still near the maintenance building. The rex left when the fence came back on.”

“Oh, thank God, they got the power back on,” the voice said. “Alright, we’ll meet you at the service road that leads to the building. Who’s with you? We couldn’t quite make it out, earlier.”

“Me, Pasha, Dr. Kirk, and Dr. McCoy,” Hikaru said. “We’re okay, except Dr. Kirk got a little electrocuted.”

“A little, he says,” Leonard said. “Ten thousand goddamn volts…”

“Who in the hell is Dr. McCoy?”

Jim grabbed the radio. “Can we explain when we’re not in the middle of fucking death island, please?” he asked hoarsely.

A pause. “Alright. Coming to get you now, over.”

“Damn fucking right you are,” Jim said, and dropped the radio, flopping back onto the grass. “When we get back, I want a million hamburgers.”

“You’ll be lucky if I let you eat Jell-O,” Leonard said. “Now come on, Thor. Time to go home.”

“To Asgard,” Jim said dramatically, standing up with Leonard’s help.

“Alright, kids, get the backpacks and let’s go,” Leonard said, pulling Jim’s arm over his shoulder.

(DINOSAURSEATMAN.WOMENINHERITTHEPAGEBREAK)

By the time they reached the service road, Jim could walk on his own, if with a slight limp. Bones insisted on walking close, though, their shoulders brushing with every other step.

It took a few minutes for the Jeep to pull up. Scotty stood in the back, awkwardly holding a rifle. A severe, rugged-looking man sat in the driver’s seat, looking Bones up and down suspiciously.

“You McCoy?” he asked.

“Dr. McCoy,” Bones said.

“What kind of doctor?” Scotty asked. “We’ve got a badly injured man back at base.”

“I’m that kind of doctor,” Bones said. He put his hands on Jim’s hips to help him into the Jeep.

“You know I’m fine, now, Bones,” Jim said.

“Our definitions of fine are vastly different,” Bones said. “Kids, get in the back with…”

“Montgomery Scott, mathematician extraordinaire,” Scotty said. “I go by Scotty.”

“Leonard McCoy, trauma surgeon. I go by anything except Bones.” Bones gave Jim an exasperated, disapproving look.

“What’s a trauma surgeon doing here?” the man in the front seat asked.

“Not answering questions asked by folks too lacking in manners to give their name,” Bones said.

“Sean Finnegan,” Finnegan said. “Games master.”

“Oh, you’re the one who’s supposed to make sure the dinosaurs don’t get loose,” Bones said. If there was any more sarcasm infused in his voice Jim thought they might actually be visibly dripping in it. “Good job with that, by the way. Just wonderful.”

“The power outage was Nero’s fault,” Finnegan said. “He stole some of Kodos’ embryos.”

“You catch him, I guess?” Jim said.

Finnegan glanced back at him, then snorted and shook his head. “No, the dilophosaurs did. We left him to the Compys.”

Bones flinched.

“If not for him, we’d have everything under control,” Finnegan said.

“Under control?” Bones asked. He was pulling himself up in the way Jim was beginning to associate with the beginnings of a Righteous Dressing Down. “You must be out of your goddamned mind. You haven’t had this shithole under control since you hatched the first motherfucking dinosaur. Hell, maybe before then. You know absolutely nothing about these dinosaurs; you hardly know anything about the technology you’re using to create them. And yet you’re trying—and failing, I might add—to keep them under your control. You have at least one worker I know of who was mauled to death, and probably more than one escaped animal, one of which attacked and could very easily have killed a little girl. You’ve got velociraptors breeding and running free on your so-called paradise, which by the looks on your faces I’m guessing you had no idea about.

“You’re delusional, imbecilic, and criminally negligent,” Bones said. “And if it’s the last thing I do I will see every last one of your ill-thought-out creations blown off the face of this planet.” He sneered. “If we’re lucky, maybe they’ll use a nuclear bomb and the radiation will prevent the lot of you from ever having children and spreading your idiocy to the next generation.”

Scotty made a strange choking noise, putting a hand over his mouth to hide his laugh.

“You’re the delusional one, Doc,” Finnegan said. “There aren’t any raptors loose—”

“You shut your goddamned mouth,” Bones said, voice cracking slightly as he jabbed a finger so close to Finnegan’s face he could very easily have poked an eye out. “I watched one of my best friends get torn apart by a group of those things last night, so don’t you fucking dare try to tell me I’m delusional.”

Silence fell over the Jeep.

“Well,” Scotty said after a moment. “Being right isn’t nearly as fun when it means there’s such a low chance of any of us getting off this island alive.”

“What were you guys doing out here?” Hikaru asked, very obviously trying to break the tension by changing the subject. “Looking for Nero?”

“No, for the big rex,” Scotty said, shifting the rifle uncomfortably.

“The big rex?” Bones asked. He looked at Hikaru. “You called the one back there the baby rex—you mean to tell me there’s a full-grown tyrannosaur, here?”

“Yes,” Finnegan said. “And he’s been having quite a party. Already took down a young hadrosaur.”

“That’s good, though, isn’t it?” Jim asked. “I mean, not good for the park, obviously. But good for us? Means he won’t be hungry.”

“He’ll still attack us on sight,” Finnegan said. “He’s quite territorial.”

“Beautiful,” Bones said. “At least we’re in the Jeep.”

Finnegan glanced at him, and then turned his gaze back to the road with the air of someone avoiding gazes. “We, ah…can’t outrun him in the Jeep.”

“Excuse me?” Bones asked.

“The Jeep only goes up to about 35, maybe 40 miles per hour. The rex clocks in at 45.”

“You didn’t think that might be…I don’t know, something of an issue?” Bones asked.

“Khan wanted real dinosaurs,” Finnegan said. “Kodos has been trying to convince him to go to a new version—make the dinosaurs a bit more tourist-friendly—but Khan’s stubborn. He’s convinced they’ve reached the peak of their evolutionary ladder already.”

Bones took a deep, calming breath, massaging the bridge of his nose. “He does realize these aren’t real dinosaurs, doesn’t he?”

“I really don’t think he does,” Finnegan said.

“And he’s in charge?” Bones asked. “He has the final say in things—there’s no...checks and balances, any of that?”

“He’s charming,” Finnegan said. “He can talk the investors into whatever he wants.”

“That’s what we’re here for, though,” Jim said. “The investors finally wised up and got suspicious.”

“Finally took their heads out of their asses, you mean,” Bones said.

There was a roar somewhere in the distance. Not far enough in the distance for Jim’s liking.

“Shit,” Finnegan said. “It’s got our scent. Bloody fuck.”

“We have to get off of this road,” Bones said. “Isn’t there some sort of alternate route you can take?”

Finnegan hesitated for a moment. He jerked the steering wheel to the left.

“Your driving’s going to kill us before the rex even realizes where we are,” Scotty said. He gripped tightly to the side of the jeep as they hit a pothole.

“Stop whinging,” Finnegan said. “For that matter, all of you shut up.” He stopped the jeep at the gate of a huge domed structure.

“This wasn’t on the tour,” Jim said quietly.

“It’s not ready for tourists, yet,” Finnegan said as he trigged the opening mechanism. He climbed back into the car. “Now all of you stay down and shut up.”

They nodded, hunkering down in their seats.

“This is for dactyls?” Jim asked, wide-eyed. He looked around at the huge white droppings littering the ground and plant-life.

“Cearadactyls,” Finnegan whispered. “Fish-eaters. As it turns out, they’re even more territorial than the rex. Dive-bombed a few of the workers—they’d have torn them apart if they’d got the chance.”

A huge shadow passed over them. Finnegan gave up all pretenses of creeping through the aviary. The jeep jerking forward just in time for them to watch a huge dactyl crash into the ground.

It flailed around for a moment before standing upright. It used the small ‘hands’ at the apex of its wings for balance. Dust whirled around it as it took off, screeching.

Another swooped overhead, and Finnegan swerved sharply.

“Bloody hell, Scotty, would you shoot the blasted things?” he asked.

“I,” Scotty said, obviously flustered as he fumbled with the rifle. “I don’t, I can’t—”

“Give that thing here,” Bones said. He jerked the rifle out of Scotty’s hands.

“You know how to shoot, Doc?” Finnegan asked, glancing from the road for a moment to watch Bones stand up in the passenger’s seat.

“Of course I do,” Bones said as he took aim. “I’m from Georgia.”

One of the dactyls shrieked with pain as it veered away from them. It spun uncontrollably before crashing to the ground.

“Holy shit,” Hikaru said.

“Get us out of here, Finnegan,” Bones said. He repositioned the rifle. “I don’t think there are enough shots left to take them all out.”

“Wouldn’t want you to,” Finnegan said.

Another dactyl fell to the ground.

The jeep skidded to a halt in front of another gate. Finnegan flung the door open. He leapt out and ran for the gate controls. He only made it a few steps before he had to throw himself to the ground. A dactyl flew over him, claws scratching his back.

It screamed and flew away, movements awkward.

Bones ducked back into the car. He reloaded the rifle and cocked it with a sharp jerk of his wrist.

Finnegan scrambled to his feet and went to the controls.

The gate began to open. Finnegan came back to the jeep.

“Almost out, lads,” he said. He yelled as a dactyl swooped down. It crashed into his side.

“Shoot it,” Pasha said as the dactyl attempted to carry Finnegan’s prone form away.

“Damn thing’s jammed,” Bones said. His normally steady fingers shook as he tried to get the rifle working again.

Another dactyl landed next to the first. It pecked at Finnegan as it tried to help the other carry him away.

“Holy shit,” Hikaru said again as blood spattered across the dactyl’s face.

“We have to get out before the door closes,” Scotty said.

“I might still be able to save him,” Bones said, still scrabbling to unjam the rifle.

“We have to go now,” Jim said. He threw himself over the front seat. One hand grasped the steering wheel. The other stretched forward and pressed down on the gas petal. Gravel flew, striking yet another dactyl.

“Goddammit,” Bones said as they sped out of the aviary. “Goddammit.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim watched Bones fall back into his seat. “Bones…”

“Let’s just get out of here,” Bones said, words barely audible over the engine.

(DINOSAURSEATMAN.WOMENINHERITTHEPAGEBREAK)

“Where is everyone?” Leonard asked as they entered the Visitor’s Center. He wasn’t exactly expecting a bustling metropolis, but a few workers running about would have been…comforting to see. “Y’all stay behind me; keep an eye out for a radio.”

Their radio had been smashed at some point in the aviary—the car radio, Scotty said, had been on the fritz even when he and Finnegan first went out into the park.

“There’s the security guard’s station,” Jim said, walking toward it. “Might be a radio there.”

“Is that blood?” Pasha asked, paling.

Jim’s footsteps slowed. Leonard cocked the rifle, nodding encouragingly at Jim when he glanced back. He tiptoed forward, peering over the counter. His shoulders relaxed almost immediately, though his face crumpled.

“Just a...just a dead guard,” he said thickly. He crouched out of sight behind the desk. “And a radio. God, this is vile.” He stood, a bloody radio in his hands. Held it up near his mouth and spoke with a nasally voice, like he was trying not to breathe through his nose. “Hello? Hello, this is Jim Kirk. Is anyone else…is anyone else alive?”

Silence. Pasha turned and buried his face in Leonard’s side. Leonard and Hikaru both put an arm around him.

“Bloody fuck,” Scotty said, running his hands through his hair.

“—im?” said a crackling voice from the radio. “Jim?”

“Spock?” Jim asked, collapsing against the counter with tears in his eyes. “Oh, Christ, Spock.”

“Jim, are you well?” Spock asked. “Is anyone else with you?”

“I’m fine. I’ve got the kids and Scotty, and this guy Leonard McCoy,” Jim said. “We…we lost Finnegan in the Aviary. What about you?”

“Khan and Uhura are with me,” Spock said.

“What about Kodos?”

“Dead.”

“And Pike?”

A pause. “I would not necessarily consider him…with us,” Spock said carefully.

“He’s strung out on morphine,” a female voice said. “Listen, we need you to go to the Control Room and reset the system. I can walk you through it once you get there, but you need to hurry.”

“Why?”

“Because raptors can chew through steel,” the woman said. “And if we don’t get electricity running through the bars on the windows, soon, they’re going to get into the room with us.”

“The raptors are all the way up here?” Leonard asked. Jim shook his head.

“You’re talking about the adult raptors, Uhura?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s too long a story to tell, right now, but all eight of them are running loose. Wait a second.” She was quiet for a moment. “Kirk, there are only three on the roof.”

“Let’s get to the goddamned Control Room,” Leonard said.

“We’ll be safer, there,” Jim said, ushering them down the hall. “There’s a door. Not like they can open doors, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jim,” Leonard said as he pushed open the Control Room door cautiously.

“We’re in, Uhura,” Jim said into the radio, making his way to one of the computers.

“Good,” she said. “You haven’t seen any raptors, have you?”

“There’d be a lot more screaming if we had,” Jim said as he flopped into a chair.

“Just keep an eye out for them,” Uhura said. “Nasty fuckers have figured out how to open doors.”

Leonard’s eyes met Jim’s. Pasha screamed.

The door handle turned.

Leonard was moving toward the door almost before he saw it begin to open. His shoulder slammed into it. It screeched and pushed back.

The door closed again. He looked to see Jim next to him. Scotty quickly joined them

“We have to activate the door locks,” Jim said. A raptor’s face pressed against the glass window near the top of the door. Its breath fogged up the window.

“We have to keep this fucking door closed,” Leonard said. His feet scrabbled against the floor. “This fucker’s strong.”

“Shit,” Scotty said. “Shit.”

“What’s going on?” Uhura said, voice tinny over the radio’s bent speaker. “Kirk, we aren’t going to last much longer.”

“Neither are we,” Leonard said furiously.

“Someone needs to restart the computer system before they get in, goddammit,” Uhura said.

“I can do that,” Pasha said, perking up. “I can do that!”

“Then do it.” Hikaru shoved him into the computer chair.

“Is anyone there?” Uhura asked. Hikaru picked up the radio. Leonard yelped as the raptor’s claws curled around the door and scratched his arm.

“Pasha’s doing it,” Hikaru said, voice cracking.

“It says something the Auxiliary Power being low,” Pasha said.

“Yes, you have to switch back to Main Power,” Uhura said. “Then restart everything manually.”

The raptor’s snout poked through the doorway. Leonard tuned out of their conversation. Scotty actually grabbed the thing’s nose to push it out. He yelled and jerked his hand back.

“You idiot.” Leonard started to brace an arm against the wall beside him. He yanked it away again when the raptor swiped at him.

“Hurry up, Pasha,” Jim said.

“Got it,” Pasha said. “I got it.”

Leonard pulled back from the door to give himself some momentum. The door closed as he crashed back into it. There was a sharp scraping sound as the metal locks slid into place. All three of them went limp with relief, sliding to the floor.

“Get the lodge back online,” Hikaru said. A muffled scream sounded through the radio, like the talk button had been pushed accidentally. “Now, Pasha.”

“I’m trying,” Pasha said. “Almost…got it.”

There was a loud crackle from the radio, and then someone yelled, “You did it, you did it!”

“We can’t stop, now,” Leonard said, pulling himself to his feet. “We have to find a way to get off this island. Can you get the phones online?”

“They should—” Pasha cut himself off, staring wide-eyed at something Jim couldn’t see from the floor. Hikaru looked up in the same direction and grabbed hold of his brother.

“Can the raptors get through the glass?” Hikaru asked the radio, pulling Pasha to his feet and moving them both back toward the far wall.

“It’s thick but not tempered,” Uhura said.

“Go,” Scotty said, cradling his bleeding hand to his chest. “There’s a ladder over there into the ceiling, go. Go!”

“Up, kids.” Jim hefted Pasha up onto the ladder.

Leonard positioned the rifle.

The glass cracked as a raptor threw itself against it. Another did the same. The glass shattered under the weight of the third. It fell to the floor with a yelp. Glass had cut deep into its skin. The second leapt in and landed on it with a grunt.

Leonard fired off a shot. He smiled grimly when it screamed and fell backward.

“Leonard, come on,” Scotty said.

Leonard fired the last shot before turning to climb up after everyone else. His upper half was barely in the ceiling when a raptor rammed into the ladder. It fell out from under him. Jim and Scotty grabbed hold of his arms before he could fall. They pulled him up before the raptor could regain its footing.

“Let’s go.” Jim motioned for them to follow him. Leonard pushed Hikaru and Pasha in front of himself so they were directly behind Jim. Scotty took up the rear.

Pasha let out a gut-wrenching scream as a raptor’s head pushed up the ceiling tile he was crawling across. It hissed. Leonard pulled his pocketknife out. He opened it with a flick of his wrist. The raptor lunged at Leonard. Leonard thrusting his knife into one of the raptor’s eyes.

It shrieked and fell. Leonard jumped forward and grabbed Pasha.

“Go, go, go.” Jim pushed Hikaru and Pasha forward into the air duct. Leonard went next.

“We have to kill those things,” Scotty said. “Else they’ll keep coming. How many are left?”

“There were eight to start with,” Jim said. “We got two at the lodge when we turned the power back on, and Leonard shot one back there.”

“Stabbed one, too,” Leonard said. “Might’ve hit another with that last shot, but I doubt it. And I don’t know how hurt the one that broke the window is.”

“So three definite, one badly injured if not dead, two maybes, and two are definitely alive and well,” Jim said.

“Unless someone took another out without us knowing,” Leonard said. “Who’s got the radio?”

“I do,” Hikaru said. He held it up and pushed the talk button. “We got out okay. Did anyone kill any of the raptors?”

“No,” Uhura said. “We’ve been holed up in here since we realized the raptors were loose. Finnegan might have…”

“No, we were out trying to fix the fences,” Scotty said when they looked back at him. “Didn’t see hide nor hair of the great ugly brutes until we got back here.”

“Why did you want to know?” Uhura asked. “Have you killed any?”

“Three.” Hikaru considered something for a second before adding, “and a half.”

“So five left?” Uhura asked. “Five’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad?” Leonard asked incredulously. “I thought Pike was the one on morphine.”

Jim rolled his eyes and took the radio from Hikaru. “Got any ideas on how we can kill the rest of them? The compound is pretty well protected, especially now that the systems are back online. Once we get the raptors taken care of we should be alright until a transport gets here.”

There was a long silence.

“I have a theory,” Spock said.

(DINOSAURSEATMAN.WOMENINHERITTHEPAGEBREAK)

“This is a bad idea.”

“Bad ideas work all the time,” Jim said. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to assure himself or Bones. Both, probably. But even a bad idea was better than no idea, right?

“Bad ideas don’t usually involve using yourself to bait motherfucking velociraptors,” Bones said.

“I’ll be fine, Bones,” Jim said.

“Think of better last words,” Bones said.

“Those aren’t my last words, seeing as how I’m not going to die,” Jim said, lifting up the grate. “But on the off-chance that I do, tell your daughter her dad really is as badass as she said.”

Bones jerked back in surprise. Jim dropped to the floor before the other man could quite gain his composure. “My daughter said what? You—what? Dammit, Jim.”

Jim smirked and gave him a jaunty salute. He would probably need to apologize when he got back—Bones looked positively apoplectic.

“Raptors.” Jim spoke softly at first but got louder as he walked toward the hatching room. He snatched up a key card from what looked like the remains of a bodyguard. He added a slightly sing-song tone to his voice. “Oh, raptors. Come and get me, you nasty fuckers.”

He swiped the card in the door. He saw a flash of brown from the corner of his eye. He ran through the door. He slammed it closed. There was a satisfying thump from the other side. He ran into the depths of the hatchery.

“Chemicals, chemicals, dangerous chemicals,” he said to himself as he found the bio-hazard signs Spock had told him about. God bless Spock’s eidetic memory and frankly disturbing knowledge of dangerous substances.

Another card swipe got him into the room. A black light turned itself on as the door slid shut behind him. He squinted, both because of the dimness of the room and the small text on the bottles in front of him. Finally, he found a small case with about ten syringes in it. Each of them was filled with a liquid that glowed neon green in the black light. He stuffed all but one in the baggy pockets of his khakis.

Through some miracle, the door opened manually from the inside. As quietly as possible, he opened the door. He crept out into the hatchery. He grimaced and stepped over a body as he went toward the nearest table of eggs.

“ _Velociraptors are likely egg eaters_ ,” Spock had said. “ _Not to say they won’t attack, kill, and eat an animal if they can, but that is a risky venture even for a large group. Eggs would be easier to get to; easier to spirit away._ ”

Jim knew that, of course. Or at least, he was one of the archeologists who strongly believed raptors, like some species of birds, ate eggs.

He crouched down behind the table as one of the windows gave way. He pressed himself up against the table. Forced himself to breathe quietly as he heard the soft clicking of its huge claw against the tiles of the floor. He heard it snort. Could imagine its nostrils flaring as it tried to discern his position.

Slowly, carefully, he reached up and lifted one of the eggs out of its nest. Clenched his teeth together as he heard another raptor enter the hatchery, and then a third. A fourth. Then nothing.

Maybe Bones’ pocketknife had killed the other one, after all.

He pulled the plastic cap off of the needle with his teeth and pressed it into the egg. Still kneeling, he peered around the table. He set the egg down on the floor. Rolled it gently toward the nearest raptor. He nearly cursed aloud when it skirted past without getting so much as a glance.

He grabbed another egg. This time he didn’t bother with gentleness. The raptor’s head ducked down as it caught sight of the egg. It straightened. Its mouth dripped with fluids from the egg.

Nothing else happened.

He cursed, readying another egg. He was sure this was one of the chemicals Spock mentioned—

There was a gagging noise. He looked just in time to watch the raptor topple to the ground. Foam gathered around its mouth.

He threw a hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp as a different raptor passed close by him. He was sure he’d be spotted if he tried to get another egg.

He pulled the cap off of the needle. Inched his way around the table. His hands shook. It was a miracle they hadn’t already converged on him.

The thing’s tail came into view. It swung back and forth lazily. He glanced around to see if any of the other raptors were nearby. When he was sure they weren’t, his hand shot out. He felt the plunger compress as the needle was forced into the skin of the raptor’s tail. He quickly dove behind another table as the raptor twisted its torso around to locate its attacker.

This one went down even faster than the first. Its angry scream turned into a helpless gurgle. One of the remaining raptors pounced. Its clawed toe gutted the poisoned one. The poisoned one shrieked and sunk its teeth into the other’s neck.

Which left one more.

But he couldn’t see it. He grabbed an egg and readied it, hoping to lob it at the raptor. Maybe if it didn’t try to eat it, it would still splatter over its face and kill it. He looked around. His vision was obscured by the light mist in the room.

There was a yell behind him. He whipped around. Bones fell from the ceiling onto the back of the last raptor.

“What the fuck.” Jim could to do nothing but watch for a moment as the raptor bucked like some sort of two-legged bronco. “Cover your face, Bones.”

Bones did him one better by throwing himself (or being thrown, whichever) from the raptor’s back. Jim ran forward and smashed the egg in the raptor’s face before it could recover. He didn’t stop. Grabbed Bones and forced the other man to his feet. They sprinted out of the hatchery without a backward glance.

“Oi, stop running,” Scotty said as they reached the foyer of the Visitor’s Center. Pasha ran and tackled Jim, sobbing into his side. “Pretty sure we’re good.”

“So we just have to call the Anne B and tell her to come back to get us,” Jim said.

“We’ll have to get to one of the docks, still,” Bones said. “I heard North Dock was all but unreachable even on a good day. East Dock is a long goddamned way from here.”

“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?” Jim asked.

“Couldn’t we call for a chopper?” Hikaru asked.

“We’ll have to get one for Pike, at least,” Bones said. “You kids can go with them, and we’ll try and catch the boat.”

“No,” Pasha said. “You’ve gotta come with us. Hiks, tell them they’ve gotta come with us.”

“You can’t leave us,” Hikaru said. Both boys gave Jim pale, wide-eyed expressions of horror at the very thought. “You can’t…Dr. Kirk, you can’t…”

Jim sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, alright. We’ll stick together,” he said. “Let’s go to the Lodge so Bones can take a look at Pike.”

“Is there food at the Lodge?” Pasha asked, gripping Jim’s hand tightly. “I’m starving.”

(DINOSAURSEATMAN.WOMENINHERITTHEPAGEBREAK)

“What do you mean the phone lines are still down?” Leonard asked, slamming his fork and knife down on the table.

“Whatever Nero did to the phone lines didn’t right itself when we reset the system,” Uhura said. “And the radios don’t get that kind of distance. The Anne B is probably back in Costa Rica by now; maybe even setting out on her next voyage.”

“When will people start noticing something’s wrong?” Jim asked.

“It’s a long weekend, because of the investigation,” she said. “Skeleton crew until Tuesday.”

“So two more days,” Leonard said. “We just have to survive here for two more days.”

“We might not make it that long,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Khan said. “The park is back online. We have to regroup, true, but we’re in control again. Everything is fine.”

“Everything is not fine, you demented quack,” Leonard said. He didn’t realized he’d taken a step toward Khan until Jim’s arm was in front of him, holding him back.

“A tragic accident,” Khan said. “However—”

“Just stop it, Khan,” Pike said groggily, shifting awkwardly in the bed. Leonard had managed to stabilize him, but things still didn’t look good for him. Leonard was fairly certain he was going to come out of this a paraplegic. If he came out of it at all. “This place is a bust.”

“No,” Khan said. “This is just a minor setback—”

“Minor?” Jim’s arm fell away so it was no longer in Leonard’s way. “People are dead. Your animals are running rampant, breeding, maybe even escaping to the mainland—”

“No animals have escaped,” Khan said. “And they are not breeding, either. The very notion is ridiculous; we took several precautions.”

“Which fucking failed,” Leonard said. “I saw wild raptors with my own eyes. Treated a Compy attack with my own hands. Not to mention the so-called construction accident which I can now tell you with utmost certainty was a raptor attack. And both of those patients were on the mainland.”

“The worker was transported,” Khan said. “And I was led to believe the attack on the little girl could very well have been some sort of lizard.”

“She drew a very detailed picture,” Leonard said.

“I have seen it,” Khan said. “As we all have. But it is not conclusive evidence. This park is officially back under our control, and I will hear no more about it being closed down.” With that, he turned and stormed out of the room.

“It was never under your control,” Scotty yelled after him. Shook his head. “Poor old gent. He’s gone a bit senile, I think.”

“He’ll get over it,” Leonard said harshly. “For now, our priority is getting off of this island. We can worry about his dealing with his denial later.”

“It is possible that I can fix the phone lines,” Spock said. “Given some time in the control room.” His lips pursed. “Preferably not in the company of rotting raptor corpses.”

Leonard opened his mouth to say something, sputtering indignantly when Jim put a hand over his mouth. He had an odd expression on his face, head cocked to one side.

“You hear that?” he asked.

“What?” Leonard tried to ask, the word muffled by Jim’s hand. Rolling his eyes and suppressing the urge to mimic his daughter and lick Jim’s palm, he went quiet and listened.

“That sounds like a chopper,” Uhura said.

“ _Señor_ ,” said a voice, high-pitched and familiar and, to be honest, fucking beautiful. “ _Señor_ McCoy.”

Leonard pulled away from Jim. “Holy fucking shit. Tomasa?” He ran out of the Lodge, bringing up an arm to shield his eyes. “Tomasa?”

“ _Señor_ McCoy,” Tomasa said, waving at him from the back of a helicopter.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, borderline giddy.

“What am I do here?” she asked, waving him away when he tried to hug her. “ _Ay, dios mio, señor_. What do you think I am doing here? You say, ‘Oh Tomasa, we call you,’ ‘Oh Tomasa, we will return tomorrow,’ ‘Oh Tomasa, oh Tomasa.’” She made a disgusted noise. “You did not call and did not return, so I got worried.”

“How did you even get here?” he asked.

“I have a nephew in the military,” she said, and waved coyly at the helicopter pilot. Then she looked back at him, shaking her head and patting his chest. “It is a good thing I came. You… _cómo se dice_?”

“How do you say what?” he asked, mouth twitching as she clicked her tongue at him.

She thought for a moment more before finally saying, “You look like shit, _señor_.”

**Finale: Khan**

“It was never under your control,” Montgomery Scott’s voice yelled after him.

Khan sneered, slamming a door closed behind him as he stormed out of the lodge.

The island was safe. Of course it was safe. There were glitches, yes—there had been glitches in every park in human history, after all—but nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

Kodos and his daughter would have to be replaced. Finnegan, too, and Nero. But they had all been bad choices on his part. They lacked vision.

Kodos was always striving for his own view of perfection—couldn’t (refused to) see the animals were perfect already. Of course they were. They’d been at the top of their evolutionary ladders when the meteor or whatever it was had struck them down. Whatever other changes needed to be made would be made naturally as they grew accustomed to the modern world.

Finnegan…well, Finnegan was too cynical. Couldn’t appreciate the majesty of what they’d done at this park.

As for Nero, the slimy traitor, he’d been Khan’s worst mistake to date. Obviously.

Even if they hadn’t gone and gotten themselves killed, he’d have replaced them. But those were minor details, to be sorted out in his own time. The worst problems had already been dealt with; the park would soon be ready for Grand Opening.

And, yes, the date would have to be pushed back. He could see the fear in the others’ eyes. The idiot Scotsman had gotten to them. Even Kirk, whose eyes had been full of such wonder a mere twenty-four hours ago, had given into the drunkard’s hysterical theories.

But people always tried to stand in the way of visionaries. Galileo, Ghandi—so many great men throughout history had been persecuted by lesser beings unable to see beyond their puny beliefs and fears.

Well, Khan certainly wasn’t going to die before his greatness was known and appreciated around the world. No, that just wouldn’t do. This park was going to open and he, Khan Noonien Singh, would be remembered throughout history as the man who brought dinosaurs back to life.

He strolled along the path, making a note to himself to have Marla draw up a list of suitable—no, not just suitable, _perfect_ —replacements for his flawed and (tragically, of course) deceased employees.

He was so intent on his thoughts he didn’t see the dip in the path. With a cry he tumbled down the hill the lodge sat atop. He hit what felt like every shrub and tree on the way down. When he finally came to a stop, pain shot through him from every part of his body.

He sat up slowly, cursing under his breath as he looked up the hill. Looked around. There was no clear path nearby.

Nothing for it—he would have to climb back up the hard way.

He stood, or tried to, but was immediately grounded by a sharp pain in his ankle. No doubt it was broken.

Of all the rotten luck.

Speaking of rotten…something nearby stunk, the vile stench burning his nostrils.

He grabbed hold of a nearby sapling and used it to stand himself up. Paused when he heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter rotor.

Blast. He had to hurry. He grabbed the nearest sturdy-looking stick and began using it to aid his climb up the hill.

Because of the helicopter, it took him a moment to realize the forest had gone completely silent around him.

He stopped. Looked around. Saw nothing. Went back to climbing.

No time for foolish bouts of paranoia.

The crack of a branch was the only warning he got before a large body rammed into his side. He didn’t even have time to yell. Hit the ground hard and gasped for air.

Looked up into the eye of a raptor. It blinked down at him, cocking its head to one side. He could see a switchblade jutting from its other eye socket, and cursed that foolish, prying doctor. Couldn’t kill an animal properly.

Not that Khan condoned the killing of his animals. But, well, it was standing on his chest. Its huge claws dug into his skin.

Perhaps Finnegan was right about the raptors, after all. Perhaps they were too dangerous for a park setting. But a separate island could be made for the carnivores. A hunting ground for the men who could no longer proudly display their Bengal tigers and the like.

He had to finish this beast off, first, though. He was sure he could. He’d boxed in university, and he wasn’t so old he’d fallen out of practice.

He balled up a fist. He could probably jam the knife the rest of the way into its stinking head. He froze when he heard a curious chirruping sound.

There was another raptor standing above his head.

But no. There were only the eight. Kirk had confirmed all their deaths…except, obviously, for the one perched on Khan’s chest. And the adults had ripped the juvenile from the nursery apart.

This one was young, though. About half the size of the one standing on him.

It leaned toward him. Its rancid breath ruffled his hair as it sniffed him.

The adult stepped off of him. It snarled when he tried to sit up. When he sat up, anyway, it tackled him again. Its lips curled back into a vicious sneer as it peered down at him. It moved away again. Squawked at the juvenile.

It was teaching the juvenile how to hunt, he realized. He was being used as a bloody object lesson.

“Get away from me,” he said. The juvenile ducked its head when he struck out at it. The adult growled but didn’t attack. “I said get away, you filthy creature.”

The juvenile backed up a few paces. Took a running start and leapt at him.

He reached up to grab it. Yelled when its jaw closed around his hand. One of its two overlarge hunting claws dug into his chest. He bucked. It tumbled off of him. Its teeth stayed stubbornly attached to his hand. He beat at its head with his other hand. It let go. Skittered back with a low growl.

Cradling his injured arm to his chest, he tried to move away. Tried to get to his feet again.

The adult came forward once more. Its jaws closing around his uninjured ankle. He screamed as he heard and felt his bones crunch. Rolled over. Panicked grunts escaped his mouth. He tried to pull himself away with the only uninjured limb he had left.

The juvenile leapt onto his back. It slashed at his side and bit his neck. He jerked. Elbowed it. It rolled away but immediately attacked again. This time its claw dug into his back. He felt it strike something. Sobbed as his body went limp under its weight.

He coughed. Blood spewed from his mouth. He tried to yell. Could make no more sound than a whimper. Couldn’t even flinch when the juvenile ripped away a chunk of flesh from his shoulder.

Heard what sounded like an approving rumble from the adult. Prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that it would all be over soon…

**Epilogue**

Jim cracked an eye open when he heard someone flop into the seat next to him. Bones shoved a beer in his face, and he laughed but took it.

“How was it?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Same as it’s been for the past week,” Bones said, popping the top off of his own beer and taking a deep swig. “They ask the same questions, I give the same answers, they get frustrated, I get fucking pissed off, and they dismiss me. It’s like the circle of life only minus the lions and with about a million times more frustration.”

Jim choked on the sip of beer he’d taken. “Sometimes I forget you’re a father, and then you make a reference to a fucking Disney cartoon.”

“Hey,” Bones said, jabbing a finger at Jim. “It is a fucking _fantastic_ Disney cartoon. You don’t get to judge when the cartoon in question is the Lion King.”

Jim laughed again. “Yeah, okay.” He settled back in his chair again, letting his eyes drift closed with a slightly frustrated sigh. “At this rate, it’ll be snowing by the time I get back to Montana.”

“They’re not moving quite that slowly, Jim,” Bones said with an amused snort.

“It starts snowing in August, Bones,” Jim said.

“Ah,” Bones said. “What’ll you do?”

Jim shrugged. “Teach. I work at the University of Washington.”

“You?” Bones asked. “Teach?”

“I don’t teach kids or anything, Bones,” Jim said. He definitely wasn’t pouting. “And besides, I’m a good professor.”

“Professor,” Bones said, huffing out a strange sound—something somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Professor Kirk.”

“No, it’s actually Dr. Kirk,” he said.

“Why not work at a museum?” Bones asked. “You could be like…like Indiana Jones, only minus the whip and the running from boulders.”

“I ran from raptors and killed them with syringes, that totally counts,” Jim said, and allowed himself to grin when Bones threw his head back and laughed. “What about you? Heading back to…where was it you worked?”

“Bahia Anasco,” Bones said. “And no. I’m sick of Costa Rica, and…” He shook his head. “I know it wasn’t really my fault, what happened to Emilio. Tomasa said they would welcome me back, but I can’t…I just can’t go back there. It was only meant to be a temporary job, anyhow.”

“So where’ll you go?” Jim asked.

Bones shrugged. “Guess I can start looking around while we wait for the government to get their heads out of their asses.”

Jim grunted, taking another sip of his beer.

“Dr. McCoy,” Spock said as he joined them, sitting on Jim’s other side. “Jim.”

“Hey, Spock,” Jim said.

“Have you called the school, yet?” Spock asked blandly. The government wasn’t letting them leave the country, but they didn’t seem to have any problems with letters or phone calls.

“No,” Jim said.

“Dr. Harding has, indeed, decided to retire,” Spock said. He was very pointedly not looking at Bones.

“You don’t say,” Jim said.

“Dr. Harding?” Bones asked.

“He is one of the professors at Washington’s School of Medicine,” Spock said.

“Was,” Jim said with a sly smile at Bones.

“Indeed,” Spock said. “He also worked as our on-site doctor in Montana.”

Jim could practically see the puzzle pieces slipping into place in Bones’ head.

“No,” Bones said, pursing his lips together. “No, Jim. I’ve had enough dinosaurs to last me a lifetime.”

Jim smirked at Spock, who would probably never admit to the positively mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Seriously,” Bones said. When Jim’s smirk didn’t fade, Bones sighed and dropped his head back onto his chair. “Ain’t no guarantee I’d get the job, anyhow.”

Jim’s cheeks were already starting to hurt, and his smile still hadn’t stopped stretching across his face.

Bones huffed and drained the rest of his beer, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Tomasa says it’s not just the island stuff they’re keeping us here for,” he said suddenly.

“Oh?”

“She said there’s some herd of animals in rural Costa Rica eating specific crops,” Bones said. He looked at Jim with a quirked eyebrow. “Crops rich in lysine, if that means anything.”

Jim exchanged a look with Spock. “And, uh…what’s happened to them?”

“No one knows,” Bones said. “Apparently they disappeared into the mountains, and…well, I could walk right past you in those jungles and never realize it.”

“I…see,” Jim said.

“Fascinating,” Spock said.

Bones looked at them both for a moment, eyes narrowed. And then he shook his head, leaned back in his chair, and laughed.

“Well,” he said. “Let’s enjoy our stay in sunny Costa Rica, gentlemen.”

The End


End file.
